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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23996965">Let Me Be the End of Your Rainbow</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenOrnaments/pseuds/GreenOrnaments'>GreenOrnaments</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Alternate Universe, Close Quarters, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, M/M, Mentions of Ex-Boyfriends, Mutual Pining, Pennywise never existed, Reunion, Sexual Tension, Stanley ships it, Vacation, background stanpat, bed sharing, idiots to lovers, slight angst with a happy ending</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:28:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>31,358</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23996965</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenOrnaments/pseuds/GreenOrnaments</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Fate has ways of bringing two people back together, no matter how long they’ve been apart. Eddie has to assume this is true, because what other explanation can there really be for how he just ended up on a group weekend ski trip with Richie, whom he hasn’t seen or heard from in a decade? He’s fine, he’s good, he can totally handle this. He’s not a confused teenager with repressed feelings anymore, and Richie is still just his old friend, right? RIGHT?????</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Second chances were largely a myth, he’d always believed. Sure, if you royally fucked </span>
  <em>
    <span>some</span>
  </em>
  <span> things the first time, you could always try again. Tests, job interviews, that do-it-yourself project you’d been so sure would be a piece of cake that turned out to be anything but. Things like that were a dime a dozen in life. No need to lose your shit, just take a breath and give it another go. It’s fine. You’ll be fine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Other things in life, though… man. If you fucked </span>
  <em>
    <span>those </span>
  </em>
  <span>up, you might as well throw in the towel and bang your head against the wall for being so goddamn stupid. Those rare opportunities, those precious few chances that you let slip right through your fingers like so many grains of sand. The ones that you kicked and beat yourself over until distance and the inevitable march of time eventually softened the blow, smoothed over the memories, and dulled the impact of your loss so well that you almost forgot about it entirely... well, shit. The idea of a second chance at those things was just as full of bullshit as the placebos his mother had force fed him for his entire childhood. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d always believed that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he would soon learn, though, this wasn’t entirely correct. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie Kaspbrak heaved a sigh and sat back tiredly in his swivel chair, his eyes glazing over as he rubbed one hand over them and tried to stave off the pounding headache he could already feel coming on, the inevitable result of spending his entire morning going over that day’s newest influx of insurance claims. He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out one of his many pill bottles, expertly popping one capsule into his mouth and swallowing it dry as he looked over the work he’d completed so far, checking for any missed errors. Not that he usually made any. His job was mind numbingly boring and not at all what he’d ever pictured himself doing for a living, but it also wasn’t something that he found to be especially difficult. Sometimes he was all but convinced that any trained monkey could do his job. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He blinked as he glanced over to the one feature of his small, cramped office that he actually enjoyed- the oversized window in the corner- and took in the sight of all the people on the street below, walking in a million different directions as they went about their bustling, harried, typically New York City lives, the sound of traffic mingling with bits and pieces of conversation in the chilly winter air. He knew that most of them were probably heading off to their own boring jobs, in their own stuffy offices, to strain their eyes on their own computer screens, but in the moment they all at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>looked</span>
  </em>
  <span> like they were having a significantly more exciting morning than he was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Knock knock!” The abrupt sound of knuckles rapping on his partially open office door tore his attention away from the window as his supervisor entered without waiting for permission, holding an ominous looking stack of papers in her hand. “Edward, if you have the time, I have a few forms that I need you to look over before they get passed over to the next department.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie sighed inwardly and held his hand out for the papers, which he carefully placed on his desk as he gave her a brief smile and a nod. “I’ll get right on those, Brenda,” he assured her, giving the stack a pat for emphasis. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Brenda said. “And chin up,” she added, as though she could just tell that he’d already had more than his fill of work before the morning was even over. “It’s already Wednesday. The weekend will be here before you know it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s true,” Eddie agreed, praying that she wouldn’t try to strike up a long, inescapable conversation in the name of trying to be a relatable boss. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Speaking of this weekend, will we be seeing you on the ski trip?” she asked brightly. The insurance company Eddie worked for was relatively small, and he’d only been there for about three years, but so far, every year in mid-January his entire department had been treated to a job perk in the form of a weekend ski trip upstate, at a remote lodge that offered a really good group rate and a decent cup of hot chocolate. It was nice, and he always went just to have something to do that particular weekend, but it was usually more for a change of scenery than anything else. Skiing wasn’t exactly Eddie’s thing. He was decently athletic, sure; he always had been ever since he’d joined his high school track team in the name of openly defying his overbearing mother. Usually, though, he preferred activities where he could actually feel the solid ground beneath his feet and didn’t have to worry about accidentally slipping his way into an emergency room visit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>use a change of scenery at the moment, though, so fuck yeah, he was going. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t miss it,” he replied politely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Great! Anyway, try to have those forms back to me by this afternoon, will ya?” Brenda said, brushing a lock of gray hair out of her eyes and leaving without waiting for a reply, the sound of her heels clicking down the hallway serving as the only evidence she’d even been there at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure thing,” Eddie murmured with yet another sigh as he glanced down warily at his new pile of work. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> feeling it, that was for damn sure, but maybe an early lunch might clear his head. He stood up from his chair, stretched, yawned, and carefully made his way over to the door, peeking around to make sure no one else was hanging around who could possibly drop more work into his lap. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The coast was clear. Good. He hastily crossed the hall and stopped just outside the very last office, firmly drumming his fingers over the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, what’s up?” came a muffled voice from behind the door, and Eddie took that as a signal to open it and peek his head inside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How busy are you?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe as he watched his co-worker and one of his oldest childhood friends, Stanley Uris, rapidly typing something on his keyboard, the other man’s wire-rimmed reading glasses perched delicately on the edge of his nose as he concentrated intently on the computer screen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At this very moment? Up to my ass in reports that have to be handed in by five,” Stan replied without looking away from the screen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sounds boring. Let’s go eat,” said Eddie. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s barely past eleven.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So what? Is there some law against eating lunch early?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stan leaned back in his chair and gave him a quizzical look. “What are the chances of you leaving me alone until I agree?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Slim to none, Stan the Man. Come on, I’ll treat.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stan narrowed his eyes at him, but it was evident in his face that he was already beginning to give in. He sighed heavily, clearly resigning himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to get any more work done until after lunch, like the steadfast and loyal friend Eddie knew he’d be. “Let me just save this,” he said, making a few clicks with his mouse before turning the monitor off and standing up to face Eddie. “And if you’re paying, I’m getting pizza from that truck down the block.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Deal.” Eddie grinned as he followed Stan out of his office and out of the building, the first breath of the air outside feeling like a much welcome cleanse for his soul, even though he knew that said air was probably chock full of pollution and germs. Whatever, though. It wasn’t work. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They got their lunch quickly (the benefit to arriving early being that they beat the usual rush), and settled themselves down on a bench nearby, affording themselves an interesting view onto the next block, which was roped off and filled with people, lighting, and camera equipment. Something was clearly being filmed there, which wasn’t such an unusual sight to see. Most likely, it was probably some kind of student film. He and Stan sat back and contented themselves with people watching while valiantly protecting their food from the curious pigeons that had gathered at their feet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, what’s up?” Stan asked in between delicate bites of his pizza. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why would something be up?” Eddie replied, picking a stray onion off his sandwich and placing it neatly to the side of the paper wrapping. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know, maybe because you just dragged us out two hours early for lunch and practically ran out of the building like your ass was on fire?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, yeah, because that place is bullshit,” murmured Eddie, grumpily taking a bite of his food. “I’m doing three people’s jobs and getting paid for one, so the least they can afford me is an early break once in a while.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess that’s fair,” Stan agreed reluctantly. “But really, are you ok?” His already soft-spoken voice became slightly softer at the question, and Eddie hurriedly bit off an oversized chunk of sandwich in order to avoid eye contact as he answered it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why do you keep asking me that?” he asked with his mouth full, his gaze firmly planted over toward the bustling filming activity. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, Eddie, I know breakups are hard and you’re still a little sensitive about Eric-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am NOT!” Eddie insisted indignantly, looking sharply back at his friend. It was sort of true. Even if he </span>
  <em>
    <span>hadn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>caught his ex-boyfriend cheating (on their eight month anniversary, no less), he honestly didn’t know if their relationship would have continued much longer regardless. He’d never really felt that spark he was looking for with Eric, or, indeed, with any of the other, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> few men he’d quietly attempted relationships with in the almost ten years since he’d arrived in New York. Always looking for that damn spark and never finding it, not even a little bit. He’d only ever felt it once, but that was a very long time ago, almost a whole other  lifetime, and he doubted, at this point, that he’d ever feel it again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He supposed </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>was the real reason he’d been so down lately. Not over Eric specifically, but over the general malaise caused by almost nothing in his life looking like what he’d imagined for himself when he first set out on his adult journey. Sometimes he thought he’d be better off if he just called it a day and resigned himself to spending his life alone with an apartment full of cats. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Stan gently pressed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Positive,” Eddie said pointedly. “I’m just…. I don’t know. Burnt out with work, I guess. How’s the ski trip planning coming?” he asked in an overly bright tone, hoping to turn the subject away from his disappointing love life. “Are we all set?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uuuugh,” Stan groaned. “Planning that damn trip is literally the worst part of my job.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Better you than me,” Eddie replied with a snort. “I’m never volunteering for that task again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re mostly all set, I just need a final fuckin head count,” Stan grumbled. “Right now we’re still a couple of people shy of the group rate minimum, and I have to know by today who’s coming.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eh, we’ll probably be fine,” Eddie assured him as he finished the last of his sandwich and brushed the crumbs off of his pants. “Boss lady will probably just take some of her nephews again if we don’t have enough.” He shuddered at the thought, still reeling from the memories of last year, when one of the aforementioned nephews </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> come along and had proceeded to be so loud and obnoxious the entire time that Eddie had vowed right then and there that he was never </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> having children. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m trying really hard to avoid that happening,” Stan said with a shiver of his own, clearly flashing back to his own memories of that particular trip. “I’m kind of really into hearing myself think on vacation, you know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie laughed. “Tell me about it. If I’m gonna spend the entire weekend inside the lodge, I at least want to be able to concentrate on my book.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m harassing everyone for a head count as soon as I get back to the office,” Stan declared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ready to head back to prison and get a jump on that?” Eddie asked jokingly as he carefully stood up from the bench.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If we must,” sighed Stan, expertly tossing his empty paper plate into the nearby garbage can and standing up with a stretch. “You’re still coming with me to meet Patty for drinks after work, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re still buying, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stan rolled his eyes, but gave him a small, amused smile. “Yeah, I’ll meet your ass by the elevators at 5:15.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then yes, I’ll be there with bells on,” Eddie quipped, smiling as he linked their arms together. “Come now, Stanley, kindly walk the condemned man back to his cell.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mercifully, the rest of the work day passed by quickly enough, and by the time he and Stan arrived at their usual tavern for happy hour, Eddie was in a much better mood. They swiftly made their way into the bar area, where Stan’s wife, Patty, was already sitting and waiting at a table with two martinis in front of her, a wide smile appearing on her face as she caught sight of them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I ordered our drinks already,” she said to Stan, pushing one of the martinis toward him as he gave her a quick kiss and sat down beside her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, babes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Long day?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They always are,” murmured Stan as he took a sip of his drink. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Eddie!” Patty greeted him warmly as Eddie settled himself into the empty seat across from them, which already bore a fresh margarita just for him. “How are you holding up, honey?” Her eyes were soft with concern, and Eddie had a hard time even being a little annoyed with the question. It was hard to ever be annoyed with Patty in general, really. She was too much of a ray of sunshine, as his father used to say when he was alive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine, really,” Eddie assured her, popping one of his afternoon pills and giving her a polite smile that he hoped was convincing enough. “Thanks for the drink.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you really?” Patty pressed gently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, good, I’m glad,” she said pleasantly. Eddie took a sip of his drink and let out a breath that felt as though he’d been holding it in all day. He supposed he might have been, to be honest. He instantly felt more relaxed as he casually sipped on his margarita and listened to Patty enthusiastically chatter to them about her day, until he’d all but forgotten about his earlier doldrums. Life was never </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> bad when you had friends around. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, good news!” exclaimed Stan once they’d all downed their second round of drinks. “We’re now only one person shy of the group minimum,” he said, happily waving his cell phone that had just delivered the welcome message in the air. “If we can get just one more person by tomorrow morning, maybe we won’t have to deal with either of those little hellbeasts this weekend after all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank fuck,” said Eddie, reaching across the table to give Stan a high five. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Patty admonished then, even though she was smiling. “Don’t forget, someday we might be those people with the little hellbeasts.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but like… they’d be </span>
  <em>
    <span>our</span>
  </em>
  <span> hellbeasts,” Stan pointed out sensibly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good point.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stan stood up from his chair and shoved his phone back into his pocket. “I’m going to the bathroom. Anyone want one last drink on my way back?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes!” Eddie and Patty exclaimed at the same time, causing an amused chuckle to escape from the other man. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thought so. Be right back,” he promised, rushing off in the direction of the restrooms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, Eddie, you all set for the trip?” Patty asked casually once they were alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If by “all set” you mean “have a suitcase full of quietly amusing indoor activities,” then yes, I am,” Eddie answered her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aw, come on, you aren’t even gonna do a </span>
  <em>
    <span>little</span>
  </em>
  <span> bit of skiing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you have any idea how many ski-related accidents happen every single year?” Eddie said. “One wrong move and your head might as well be a squishable little grape. No thanks.” He could just imagine what his mother’s reaction would be if she knew he was planning to go anywhere remotely near a ski slope. Probably something along the lines of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don't even think about it, Eddie Bear! You’ll fall and break a bone for sure, you know how delicate you are! </span>
  </em>
  <span>True, it had taken him a lot of years to be able to push past that nagging inner voice when it came to things he really wanted to try, and he was proudly successful at it a lot of the time, but in this particular instance, he was kinda willing to hear it out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, fair enough,” Patty conceded. “But if you want to at least try the bunny slopes before the trip is out, I’ll go with you, if you want.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, Pat,” Eddie thanked her as he took the straw out of his empty drink and gingerly sucked the remainder of the sour liquid off of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, here comes Stan,” said Patty happily, her eyes focusing on the spot behind him where Stan must have been coming back from his restroom run. Eddie turned around and caught sight of his friend, who was both empty handed and no longer alone. Another man was following close behind him, one who looked so astoundingly familiar to Eddie that it took him a moment to put his finger on where he’d seen him before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When it suddenly dawned on him, his heart leapt into his throat as he very nearly fell right out of his chair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, you’re never gonna fucking guess who I ran into in the bathroom, Eddie,” Stan quipped, a smile slowly creeping across his face as he stepped aside to allow the man to approach the table. Eddie suddenly found himself staring straight into the dark blue eyes, framed by stark black glasses, that he hadn’t seen in over a decade but would have absolutely recognized anywhere. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, Jesus fuck, as I live and fuckin breathe,” the man said with an amused smile playing on the corners of his lips. “If it isn’t Eddie Spaghetti.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Eddie froze, seemingly every bit of blood in his body rushing to his face as he blinked up at their unexpected visitor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“R-Richie?” His own heartbeat pounded in his ears as he squinted at the man before him, as though he were trying to confirm that he definitely was who Eddie thought he was. “Richie Tozier?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Live and in the flesh,” Richie answered jovially, a wide grin spreading over his face, his shoulders shrugging as his hands stayed firmly planted inside his jacket pockets. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow,” Eddie breathed out, trying to maintain some semblance of composure, which was already quite a task in his tipsy state. “It’s been…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A long ass time,” Richie finished, his eyes sparkling the same way they always had. A barrage of memories raced through Eddie’s mind at lightning speed in just a few seconds, most of which he hadn’t thought about in many years. Visions of jokes and shared giggles and passed classroom notes. Lazy summers spent at the quarry or the movie theater. Long afternoons spent on the floor of Richie’s bedroom, singing along to songs on the radio as they pored over the latest issue of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Batman</span>
  </em>
  <span>. All of it felt like it had just happened yesterday, and yet the new ruggedness of Richie’s face, the slightly more tamed dark hair, the way his shoulders were now twice as wide as Eddie remembered…. all of that reminded him just how much time </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> passed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, his adrenaline rush calming slightly as he subtly took in Richie from head to toe, marveling at just how </span>
  <em>
    <span>big</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was. He’d always been tall, but the Richie he remembered was worlds away from what he looked like now, which was much more akin to a male model than an adorable small-town boy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Jesus. I don’t know where he disappeared to after graduation, but I want to know what they put in the water, wherever it is. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Patty, this is Richie,” spoke up Stan, whom Eddie had nearly forgotten was there. “Eddie and I grew up with him back in Derry. Richie, this is my wife, Patty.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi,” Patty greeted him sweetly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi,” Richie replied with a small wave and a polite nod, but his attention was clearly still focused elsewhere. “Mind if I sit?” he asked, indicating the empty chair beside Eddie as he directed the question at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What, are you waiting for a written invitation?” Eddie replied without thinking, the blood rush to his face calming slightly as he found himself slipping straight back into teenager mode. He wasn’t sure where </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> had come from, but he smiled up at Richie and pulled the chair out, indicating it with a vague wave. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll take that as a yes,” said Richie with a grin as he sat down, the sudden closeness affording Eddie the opportunity to take in the strong scent of the man’s cologne mixed with whatever he’d been drinking before their impromptu reunion. “Still a tiny firecracker, aren’t you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing here?” Eddie blurted out suddenly, using his drink as a shield as he took tiny sips. He hoped the question hadn’t come out too sharply, but alcohol had never been great for his brain to mouth filter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie’s eyes twinkled as he kept them entirely focused on Eddie to the exclusion of Stan and Patty, who were looking on curiously. “Well, uh, as it happens, I’m here visiting my stepson.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie coughed as he struggled to swallow the sip he’d just taken. “Your step... you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>married</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” He couldn’t quite explain why the prospect made him so uncomfortable. Maybe it was because he still sort of thought of Richie as that same endearing, and slightly annoying, teenage boy, but he just couldn’t picture him being settled down with anyone. Or maybe it was just the vast amounts of tequila in his system, who knew. But he definitely was less than enthused. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn’t know?” Richie asked, sounding shocked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How the hell would I have known?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just figured that your mom would have sent you an invite to the wedding,” replied Richie, as casually as if they had just been discussing the weather. Eddie narrowed his eyes at him as a surge of annoyance flowed through him in a weirdly nostalgic way. He’d endured so many similar jokes from Richie back in the day that it was almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> what he would have expected to hear from him. It was irritating, but somehow comforting, although he wasn’t about to let Richie know that at the moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?” Eddie retorted sarcastically, ignoring Stan’s snickering from across the table as he placed a tight grip around the rim of his margarita glass. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie looked down at his hands and then glanced back at him, a more sincere look on his face. “Nah, actually I’m here for work. I’m gonna be in this movie, and we just wrapped filming today. We shot the last scene just a few blocks from here this morning.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No shit?” Eddie exclaimed quietly, his annoyance temporarily forgotten. “An actual movie?” He knew that Richie had always had aspirations of being an entertainer, of course. Eddie himself had even encouraged him many times, because there had never been any doubt, even in their younger years, that Richie </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> had the raw talent to make that happen if he wanted to. So, he wasn’t as surprised by Richie’s statement so much as he was…… oddly proud, he supposed. “Congrats, man!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie smiled. “Yeah, dude. It’s not a big movie or anything, and I’m not even a main character, but yeah, this might be my big break or some shit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, a few blocks from here?” Stan interjected.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whoa, Eddie, I bet that’s what we saw going on at lunch!” Stan pointed out excitedly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, that’s right!” Eddie exclaimed, enthusiastically placing a hand on Richie’s arm without thinking and momentarily short circuiting when he could plainly feel muscle beneath the sleeve that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>new. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eddie and I work at the same company,” Stan explained to Richie as Eddie removed his hand like it was burning. “We took our lunch break early today and we saw a ton of camera equipment and shit nearby, that had to be you guys.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Small fuckin world!” said Richie. “Same company, huh?” he added, looking curiously from Stan to Eddie and back again. “How did </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> end up happening?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re in insurance,” said Stan. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In the claims department,” Eddie added. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well that just sounds extremely lovely and boring,” Richie quipped. “Pretty much what I expected from you, Stanley, congratulations.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks,” replied Stan with an eye roll.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s good at it,” Patty said pointedly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For sure, for sure. But I never would have pegged you for an insurance man, Spaghetti,” Richie continued, turning his attention back to Eddie. “What happened to working with cars?” Eddie was surprised that Richie even remembered his childhood career ambitions. Some days even </span>
  <em>
    <span>Eddie</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn’t remember, so caught up was he in the day to day rat race. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, insurance is a nice, steady job,” Eddie protested. “And it’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> boring,” he lied haughtily. “It’s actually very important. I have to go over all of these forms and make sure that they’re accurate, and then I input the information into the-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A loud, exaggerated snore interrupted his sentence, and he glared at Richie as the other man cautiously opened one eye to check on the effect of his joke. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?” Eddie said irritably. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry, I just passed out from the sheer excitement of your typical day,” said Richie cheekily. “I wish that I too could have such stimulating employment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good to see you still have that oh-so-sharp sense of humor, asshole.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, it’s the only thing your mom didn’t take in the divorce.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck you, dude.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck you,” Richie jabbed back with a sparkle in his eye. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, our jobs are plenty exciting,” Eddie insisted, trying his best to sound convincing. “They’re actually sending us on a ski trip this weekend. They do it every year.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really, now?” said Richie with amusement. “I gotta be honest, I cannot picture you on a pair of skis.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, he doesn’t ski,” piped up Stan. “He stays in the lodge the entire time with his books.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Thanks</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Stanley,” Eddie said through half gritted teeth as Richie snorted and Patty let out a giggle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I knew it,” Richie said with gleeful delight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up. I just find it peaceful to read by a fireplace, ok?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Neeeerd.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Richie, question for ya,” interrupted Stan, looking as though the wheels in his head were beginning to turn. “Do you have plans for this weekend?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie cleared his throat. “Uh, well… like I said, my movie just wrapped, so…. no. I guess not? Why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, why?” Eddie asked suspiciously. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, this ass, is he going to do what I think he’s-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stan’s mouth stretched into a smile. “As it happens, we’re still missing just </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> person to get the lodge’s group discount, soooooo…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie felt his cheeks grow as hot as a greenhouse in July as he processed what was happening. He wasn’t sure if he was annoyed or somewhat hopeful that Richie would say yes, but either way, the prospect of going on the trip with him was…. interesting. He couldn’t deny that much. After all, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> wanted a distraction this weekend, hadn’t he? What better distraction than catching up with an old friend?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the other hand, if he had to endure an entire weekend of mom jokes and pasta puns, he might just try to strap on a pair of skis after all and hope that nature took its course. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>God, how much alcohol had he consumed? His heart was just about beating out of his chest. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe I shouldn’t mix drinking with my pills so much, that can’t be good.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t realize that he’d completely tuned out of the conversation until he came back to earth and suddenly noticed three curious faces staring at him expectantly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” he asked, blinking himself the rest of the way back to reality. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie snorted. “I was just asking what you thought of me coming along on your little trip,” he explained. “I mean, I have nothing better to do this weekend, so…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His face was almost unreadable as he waited for Eddie’s reply. There was definitely amusement there, but it was overshadowed by something else Eddie didn’t quite have the mental capacity to identify at the moment. Nervousness? Could that be it? Had Richie </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> been nervous about Eddie’s opinion a day in his life? Eddie sincerely doubted </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If… if you </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to,” he finally answered, downing the rest of his margarita in one gulp. “It might be fun. A little mini Losers reunion.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Losers?” asked Patty in confusion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stan laughed. “I’ll explain later, it’s a long story.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie once again zoned out of the conversation as Stan and Patty began enthusiastically telling Richie all about the ski lodge and its many accommodations. He was much too busy trying to just subtly </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span> at Richie, his mind working overtime with processing just how much he had changed since the last time Eddie had seen him. He could still see his old friend in there, for sure, but now there was a certain mature quality to him, despite the ever present crude jokes, that gave Eddie a weird, fluttering feeling deep inside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Although, to be fair, that could also have been attributed to the fact that he was three margaritas in on a mostly empty stomach. That was probably the most likely scenario, actually. He’d all but convinced himself of that by the time the group of them were ready to head home and he found himself giving Richie the world’s most awkward hug goodbye outside of the bar before they all headed their separate ways. He briefly let himself toy with the idea of tagging along with Richie, inviting himself back to wherever he was staying and hanging out with him. Just to see. To see if it was different when they were alone, to see if he still felt….</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh my god, get a fucking grip on yourself, Edward. That was a long time ago, it was NOTHING, and you got over it, so maybe don’t go digging for things you don’t really want to find and just let this be a nice catchup weekend with someone who used to be one of your best friends. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie hailed a cab back to his own home as fast as humanly possible, eager to have some alone time to himself to think… and to ponder long and hard about what he was going to pack for the trip, which he suddenly felt a greatly renewed interest in. He had to give a good impression about himself and his life’s progress, after all. He sure as fuck couldn’t have Richie seeing visual </span>
  <em>
    <span>proof</span>
  </em>
  <span> that he was just like any old boring insurance agent. He had to make sure he dressed to impress. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only to prove a point to that pompous little shit, obviously. Not for any other reason whatsoever, of course. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Christ, it was going to be a </span>
  <em>
    <span>looooong</span>
  </em>
  <span> fucking wait to Friday, wasn’t it?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thursday was one of the longest days Eddie had ever experienced in his life, which was saying quite a lot, considering how many days of his childhood had been spent cooped up in the house because of some reason or another that his mom always seemed able to pull from her ass. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Every minute of his workday dragged, and every hour of that night felt like years as he ate dinner, watched television, checked and re-checked his luggage, and then lay wide awake in bed, inexplicably more preoccupied with that damn ski trip than he’d ever been. Only by some miracle did he finally manage to drift off to sleep at around 3am, which meant that by the time the Urises’ small sedan was pulling up to the front of his apartment building at 9 on Friday morning, his day was already off to a grumpy start. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You look like hell,” said Stan as he got out of the passenger side and bounded over to grab two of Eddie’s suitcases. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks for that helpful observation, Stanley,” muttered Eddie, sniffing in the chilly winter air as he followed him over to the trunk and placed a third, smaller suitcase and his toiletry bag next to the first two. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s what friends are for,” Stan quipped. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> know we’re only going to be gone for two days, right? We aren’t moving there.” He cast a pointed glance at Eddie’s plethora of luggage that dwarfed his own and Patty’s as he slammed the trunk door back down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How is this surprising to you? You </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> I overpack.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never four bags at once, that I can recall. Are we perhaps trying to make an impression?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What, a guy can’t pack extra clothes nowadays without it being an image thing?” Eddie protested indignantly, his cheeks slightly hot despite the cold. “I just like to be prepared.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh-huh,” murmured Stan with a teasing smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, let’s just get going before we run into traffic,” said Eddie with an eye roll as he made his way over to the car door and placed his fingers on the handle. “I wanna have time to freshen up before…. </span>
  <em>
    <span>RICHIE</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” he exclaimed in surprise as he opened the door and saw for the first time that the backseat wasn’t empty. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi, Eddie!” said Richie brightly, giving him a cheeky little wave as Eddie valiantly attempted to not swallow his own tongue. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“H-hi,” he stammered, climbing into the car and gingerly positioning himself into his seat, which, thanks to the combination of the compact size of the car, the overall largeness of Richie himself, and the presence of a duffel bag taking up a significant chunk of space, only offered about an inch of room between himself and Richie. He gulped and brushed his fingers over the pocket of his designer jacket, making sure his pills were still safely stored inside before he fastened his seatbelt and prayed that the next few hours would go smoothly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi, Eddie!” Patty greeted him from the driver's seat as Stan re-entered the car. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi, Pat,” he replied with a polite smile in the direction of the rear view mirror, an involuntary shiver rattling his body as Richie’s leg briefly brushed his own. </span>
  <em>
    <span>There must be a draft in here. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Hopefully the heat would take over soon. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Everybody ready?” she said in a tone not unlike a first grade teacher asking her class if they were ready to go on a field trip, as she put the car into drive. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hell yeah,” replied Stan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ready,” Eddie said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As ready as Spaghetti,” piped up Richie, and Eddie closed his eyes as he felt, rather than saw, the other man fixing him with a shit eating grin. Maybe this was going to be a longer car ride than he thought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aaaand we’re off!” chirped Patty as they began moving down the street. Eddie looked out of the car window for a few moments, using the reflection in the glass as an opportunity to take a good look at himself and determine just how bad he looked after his sleepless night. Ok, so he had some slightly baggy eyes, but…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, Eds,” Richie said, interrupting Eddie’s thoughts as the car drove on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s still not my name,” Eddie retorted, casting a sidelong glance at him as he took in the defined jawline he hadn’t been able to properly see before now. The other man had some facial stubble now that he hadn’t had at the bar the other night, and Eddie had to admit (to himself and </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> himself), it was a good look for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, forgive me. So </span>
  <em>
    <span>Edward,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Richie corrected himself. “Mr. Fancy Insurance Man. You’re going on a ski trip and you don’t even ski.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah? What’s wrong with that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> just going to read the entire weekend?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you really just going to ask dumb questions the entire weekend?” Eddie muttered. The heat in the car had kicked on, but he still felt a bit shivery, probably because every movement from Richie beside him must have been causing miniature drafts to circulate in the backseat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So what’s with the cargo?” Richie asked, ignoring Eddie’s retort as he pointed toward the trunk with his thumb. “Are all those suitcases full of books, or are you planning to change your outfit three times a day like you’re a member of the 18th century nobility?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“First of all, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Richard, </span>
  </em>
  <span>only one suitcase is clothes,” replied Eddie haughtily. “One is outdoor wear just in case I change my mind, one is for extra bedding because I don’t trust the cleanliness of hotel sheets and blankets, and the last one is toiletries.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An amused grin had begun appearing on the corners of Richie’s lips as he attentively listened to this diatribe. “Alright. Calm down, Eduardo, no need to get all snappy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night, so I’m tired and just a little on edge.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie’s face softened. “Aw, you always were cute when you got bitchy,” he said in a mock baby voice as he reached over to lightly pinch Eddie’s cheek. Eddie’s face immediately flushed at the contact, and he quickly turned his attention back to the window while he waited for it to die down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Stan, can we get some music up in here, please?” he asked, desperate for literally any distraction by this point. Stan obliged, turning the radio to an 80s channel, and an entirely new wave of nostalgia hit Eddie hard as the opening notes of </span>
  <em>
    <span>I Wanna Dance With Somebody</span>
  </em>
  <span> flooded him with memories of a long ago summer night, his young teenage self perched on a swing in the deserted elementary school playground, a portable boombox on the ground and a messy haired boy with glasses next to him…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aw man, this is the song that was playing the first time I got drunk at a school dance and ended up ralphing all over the bleachers,” said Richie wistfully, causing Eddie to snap out of his own pleasant memory and silently roll his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Haven’t changed at all, have you, Trashmouth?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie sighed and closed his heavy eyes, letting the steady movement of the car soothe him as he tried to relax just a little. Maybe a little rest would…..</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The very next thing he knew, he was opening his eyes to find that the scenery had changed significantly, from narrow, busy city streets into a vast, snowy expanse, punctuated by trees, hills, and the inviting sight of the ski lodge in the distance as the car slowly made its way up the winding path toward the parking lot. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jesus Christ, how long was I out for???</span>
  </em>
  <span> He blinked and yawned, beginning to stretch a little before he suddenly realized, with abject horror, that his head was no longer propped against the headrest of his seat, but was instead lolled ever so slightly to the side, the only obstacle preventing it from dropping into a very uncomfortable position being something that was decidedly less leather and stuffing and much more leather and </span>
  <em>
    <span>moving</span>
  </em>
  <span>, because it was an actual breathing human in a jacket. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d fucking fallen asleep on Richie Tozier’s shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck. </span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Eddie shot upright as though he’d been tased, his eyes still blinking back sleep as he sniffed, looked out of the window, and tried his best to avoid direct eye contact with Richie. Which was difficult, to say the least, since he could definitely see the other man’s amused smirk out of his peripheral vision. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s never going to let me hear the end of this.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sleeping Beauty awakens!” said Richie teasingly. “Have a nice nap there, Eduardo?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yep, there it is. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut uuuuup,” Eddie mumbled, feeling an embarrassed heat begin to rise in his cheeks. He checked the time on his watch and reached into his pocket for one of his pill bottles, shaking one out and swallowing it quickly before tucking the bottle safely back inside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was starting to think that you really </span>
  <em>
    <span>were </span>
  </em>
  <span>going to sleep for a hundred years,” Richie continued, sounding wholly unperturbed despite the brief look of concern that ghosted over his face as he watched him do this. “I would have volunteered to wake you up with a kiss, but you were drooling pretty heavily, so….”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you done?” Eddie asked with a roll of his eyes, even though his face had </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> grown several degrees hotter at the other man’s words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aaawww, somebody’s cranky,” said Richie in an exaggeratedly singsong voice. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you’ve always been </span>
  <em>
    <span>adorable</span>
  </em>
  <span> when you’re pissed,” he added, beginning to reach his hand over toward Eddie’s cheek.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You pinch my cheek again and you lose a finger,” Eddie threatened half-heartedly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie grinned, but he did immediately retract his hand. “Kinky,” he joked as he retreated back into his own space, and Eddie felt a sudden, annoying flutter in his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m probably developing a heart murmur. This man is literally going to fuckin kill me this weekend. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, children, behave yourselves,” spoke up Stan as Patty pulled into an available parking space and stopped the car. “We’re here.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie removed his seatbelt and scrambled out of the car, busying himself with taking a good look at the lodge as he waited for Stan to unlock the trunk. It hadn’t changed at all since the last time he’d been there, of course. It was still a large, sprawling house designed to look much older than it actually was, with a wooden exterior and many front-facing windows. Each of the windows sported a single decorative electric candle, and recent snowfall covered the roof, the window shutters, and the awnings of the balconies that adorned either side of the house. The overall effect had always sort of reminded Eddie of the cozy looking homes on the front of one of those old-fashioned Christmas cards, were it not for the distracting view of the paved parking lot, the ski equipment rental office in the distance, and the handful of tourists in snowsuits walking to and from the lodge and the paths that led to the slopes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aaaah,” sighed Richie as he sidled up to Eddie and casually leaned up against the car with his duffel bag draped over one shoulder. “Smell that fresh air.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly with his eyes closed, and Eddie couldn’t help but smile a little to himself at how genuinely peaceful the other man looked just then. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he agreed, focusing his gaze across the way on a nearby hill that kids liked to use for sledding after a fresh snowfall. “I like the city, but I always really look forward to coming here. It’s so beautiful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie glanced over at him, a small smile reaching all the way up to his eyes. “It sure is,” he said quietly. They locked eyes for the briefest of moments, and Eddie felt his stomach dip ever so slightly as memories from years ago began to resurface at the forefront of his mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, not nearly as beautiful as your mom on date night, but-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Beep fucking beep, Richie,” Eddie grumbled irritably, the pleasant moment evaporating right into the chilly winter air. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yo, Eddie, come and collect your metric fuckton of luggage,” called out Stan just then as he and Patty grabbed their own belongings out of the trunk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You need any help with those?” Richie asked him as he followed Eddie around the back of the car. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I’ve got it,” Eddie insisted, expertly grabbing most of his baggage in one fell swoop, but even as he finished that sentence he could already tell that he was going to need to make a second trip for the last bag. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Goddammit</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He reached a couple of fingers out lamely, knowing damn well he wasn’t going to be able to hook the bag’s handle around them. Some of his co-workers were beginning to park and exit their own cars, staring at his plethora of luggage with curious looks amongst each other. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie chuckled. “What was that you were saying?” he teased. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want to admit defeat now and let me help you, or would you rather take the walk of shame back here after you’ve dropped off your other foot lockers inside?” asked Richie. Eddie sighed inwardly. He knew Richie was right, and what was worse, he knew that </span>
  <em>
    <span>Richie </span>
  </em>
  <span>knew that he was right. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine,” he conceded with an indignant sniff. “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For you, Eds? Anything,” replied Richie with a cheeky wink as he grabbed hold of the bag and slammed the trunk shut. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They followed the crowd into the lodge, where everyone milled around the small lobby area and talked in small groups as Stan and Brenda spoke to the receptionist at the front desk. Eddie couldn’t help but notice that Richie seemed to immediately be quite popular with his female co-workers, many of whom were not even being a little bit subtle about staring him down. Hilariously, most of them were also staring daggers at Patty as she quietly pointed out small details of the lodge to Richie, who was listening and nodding politely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You wish, ladies</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought with a smirk, shaking his head in amusement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, guys,” Stan announced loudly as he returned to the crowd with a handful of keys. “We’re all checked in. I’m gonna hand everyone their room keys, and the equipment office is open for another few hours if anyone wants to get in some runs today before dark.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck yeah,” Richie murmured quietly. He cast an inquiring look over at Eddie, who wasted no time shaking his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he said pointedly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aw, you’re no fun.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” said Stan, coming over to their little group after he had given out all of the keys except two. “This one is ours, Babes,” he said as he handed one to Patty. “And… guys, I’m really sorry about this, but there’s only one room left that isn’t already taken, so you’re gonna have to share.” He sheepishly pressed the last key into Eddie’s hand, expertly avoiding eye contact as Eddie tried not to swallow himself whole from the inside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hear that, Eds? We’re gonna be roomies,” said Richie cheerfully, slinging one arm casually around Eddie’s shoulder. “It’ll be just like the Losers Club sleepovers back in the day!” Eddie somehow managed to smile despite his sudden racing heartbeat. This was fine. This was good, actually. This meant that he and Richie would have some time to themselves over the weekend to reconnect, talk, maybe do some reminiscing about the old days….</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>There you go, Eddie. Bright side. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d mostly managed to calm down by the time the four of them had made their way up to the third floor and down the hall to their rooms, which turned out to be next door to each other. This was the first time he’d ever stayed on the top floor, and Eddie was liking it already. Theirs were the only rooms up there besides the bathroom, which was perfect, as far as he was concerned. The less he had to put up with everyone else’s noise, the better. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Urises quickly disappeared into their room and Eddie stood facing the other, Richie close behind him with half the luggage. He slid the key into the lock and opened the door, ready to put the awkward start to the trip behind him and start actually enjoying himself. The room itself was small but still quite nice, and Eddie was pleased to discover that it was one of the rooms with an adjoining balcony outside of a large set of curtained glass doors in one corner. A small table and two chairs stood in another corner, along with a large wardrobe to make up for the lack of a closet. Against one wall was a faux wooden stand with a television, perfectly situated across from the single queen sized bed….</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wait a goddamn minute. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuckity fucknut fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eds, not that I don’t think you’re a vision to behold or anything, but I kinda need to get by you,” Richie spoke up behind him, which caused Eddie’s already racing pulse to start doing gymnastics as this unexpected turn of events began to settle in his brain. He turned to face the other man, who was now looking at him with extreme concern. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You ok? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie cleared his throat and moved aside so that Richie could step into the room. “Actually, it, um… it looks like we have a little problem with the sleeping arrangements,” he managed to squeak out. He watched as Richie slowly figured out their predicament, his handsome face beginning to take on a thoughtful look. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ooooh,” he said in a low voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” said Eddie, his fingers closing around the bottle of anxiety medication in his pocket just to make sure it was still there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well… I mean… it’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> big of a deal,” Richie said with a shrug. “Not to me, anyway. We used to share beds all the time as kids.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, exactly, that’s how-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know we’re old men now, but I can live for one weekend,” Richie added, interrupting Eddie’s train of thought. “If it’s ok with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eager blue eyes went straight through Eddie’s core. Eddie fixed him with a smile and a nod as he slowly backed away toward the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah.. it’s fine, I um… I’m gonna go check out the bathroom…” he stammered as he bolted out of the room, leaving Richie looking confused as he closed the door behind him. He did not go to the bathroom. He went straight next door and urgently rapped on the bedroom door as quietly as he could until Stan finally opened it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s the big emergency?” he asked as he took in Eddie’s anxious demeanor. “You look like you just escaped from a pack of wild boars.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you know there’s only </span>
  <em>
    <span>one fucking bed</span>
  </em>
  <span> in that room???” Eddie said in the lowest voice he could manage that still got his point across as he pushed his way into the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, really?” asked Stan, who looked rather amused at this revelation, much to Eddie’s annoyance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Stan, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So what? I know it’s been years, but it’s not like you haven’t shared a bed with him before.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was </span>
  <em>
    <span>different</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie gave him a look of pure disbelief. “We were </span>
  <em>
    <span>kids</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stan raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, so? Have you heard yourselves bickering back and forth today? You’re still kids.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re so helpful, Stanley, whatever would I do without you?” Eddie said dryly, as her husband’s words elicited a smile and a quiet snicker from Patty over in the corner. “You know damn well what I mean.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, I’m sorry, it’s totally my fault for not checking the number of available rooms,” Stan apologized, even though he was clearly still deriving a large amount of entertainment from Eddie’s predicament. “If you absolutely have a horrible time this weekend, I’ll make it up to you when we get home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah? How?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll buy you lunch for two days.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Make it three.”</span>
</p>
<p>Stan sighed. “Fine. Three. Now, I love you, but get lost, we have skiing to get ready for.”</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie rolled his eyes and left the room, taking out the bottle of anxiety meds on his way back to his own. He quickly popped one in his mouth and swallowed it down dry as he quietly turned the doorknob. To his surprise, he walked right in on the sight of Richie standing across the room from the now completely bare bed, trying to fold the comforter down into the shape of a makeshift mattress. The rest of the stripped bedding was laying in a haphazard pile beside him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How was the bathroom?” Richie asked teasingly as he looked up and saw him standing in the doorway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? Oh… yeah, it.. it’s fine… what are you doing?” Eddie asked, taking a few steps inside and trying to piece together what exactly he was looking at. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie looked slightly embarrassed. “Oh… yeah, um…” He ran a nervous hand through his messy hair and looked awkwardly down at the floor. “Look, Eds, I can see that sharing a bed with me is gonna make you uncomfortable, so I thought it might be better if I just... slept on the floor? I figured you were gonna use your own bedding anyway, so I just..” He gestured vaguely to the messy pile of sheets and blankets and gave him a sheepish smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie blinked in surprise. “What… Richie, you don’t have to…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, really, I should,” Richie insisted. “This was your weekend to begin with, so you should have the bed. It’s really fine with me, I promise. I’ve slept on worse things than a floor.” He gave him a reassuring grin, and Eddie instantly felt like the world’s biggest asshole as he looked into the deep blue eyes that were still, after all those years, so eager to make everything ok. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Richie…” He sighed heavily and stepped all the way into the room, closing the door lightly behind him. “Richie, don’t… don’t do that, ok? I really don’t mind if we share.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t?” Richie sounded like he didn’t believe him in the slightest, which Eddie supposed was fair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Really</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Eddie assured him, emphasizing the word so that Richie would know he meant it, even though the very thought was giving him heart palpitations so strong he was sure the other man could probably see it beating through his many layers of clothes. “It’s just for two nights, we’ll be fine. Besides, I can’t in good conscience let you sleep on that bedding. Do you have any idea how disgusting hotel bedding is? I was watching this documentary once, and they said that-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lodge.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie blinked. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re at a lodge, not a hotel,” said Richie cheekily, his eyes dancing with mischief. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie narrowed his eyes at him. “You know what? Go ahead and sleep on those sheets, they’re probably covered in the jizz of a thousand men,” he said sarcastically as he removed his coat and hung it on a hook behind the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I cannot believe I actually managed to live long enough to hear the word </span>
  <em>
    <span>jizz</span>
  </em>
  <span> come out of Eddie Kaspbrak’s mouth. Is it the apocalypse?” Richie said in an exaggerated posh accent, dramatically throwing a hand over his heart and pretending to faint backwards onto the stripped bed. “Is this the same sweet Spaghetti who had to cover his eyes for half of </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Terminator</span>
  </em>
  <span> in Bill Denbrough’s basement?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie wanted so badly to be annoyed, but in spite of himself, he felt the corners of his mouth begin to turn up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, coincidentally, that was also the last time you did any sort of maturing,” he retorted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They don’t call me Trashmouth for nothing,” Richie pointed out, sprawling onto the bed with his head propped up on one hand. “So, you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolutely </span>
  </em>
  <span>sure you don’t mind sharing the bed?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my god, I don’t mind,” sighed Eddie with a small smile. “Now get off of there so I can put the clean bedding on it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You want any help?” Richie offered, eagerly jumping off the bed and making his way over toward Eddie’s suitcases. “Which one of these shipping containers has the blankets?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie shook his head. “No, no, I’ve got it. Actually, if you want to get any runs in before it gets dark, you should probably head down to the rental office now. Stan and Patty are going in a few.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie hesitated, looking torn as he glanced from Eddie to the door and back again. “Well.. I mean… are you really not going to go out at all?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hell no.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just feel bad for leaving you all on your own while-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Richie, seriously, 90% of the reason I’m even here is just to relax. I’m gonna make up the bed and then I’m going to bring a book into that lounge downstairs so I can read in peace by the fireplace,” Eddie assured him. “Careening down a mountain at 150 miles an hour with the constant threat of head injury hanging over me is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> my idea of relaxing. So go, have fun. I’ll still be here when you all get back.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>God, PLEASE go skiing for a while, I need time by myself to process the circus that has been this day.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie still looked unsure, but he thankfully didn’t push it. He just nodded and thrust his hands into his jacket pockets. “Ok, alright. I’ll see you in a few hours, then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok.” Richie smiled and left the room, brushing shoulders with Eddie on his way out, and Eddie had to close his eyes and lean against the wall for moment once he was alone, mostly to collect his thoughts and convince his pulse to calm the fuck down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ok, Eddie, get your fucking shit together. You’re not sixteen anymore, for Christ’s sake. That was nothing and this will be nothing. You’re mature adults…. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Well. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re adults, anyway. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once Eddie had finished making the bed and organizing the room to livable standards, he felt a little better about the whole situation. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stan is probably right</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he’d told himself as he gave the covers one last, satisfying smooth-over with his hand and stepped back to admire his work. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I mean, ever since we reunited, we’ve basically been acting just like we used to as kids. He’s still my friend, even after- </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>(My friend who happens to have gotten super hot over the years, but that doesn’t matter at all and I’m gonna stop thinking about that. Riiiiight… now.)</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He unzipped one of his bags, took out the copy of </span>
  <em>
    <span>My Sister’s Keeper</span>
  </em>
  <span> that he was hoping to finish before the weekend was out, and headed downstairs to his absolute favorite part of the lodge, the living room lounge area. It was spacious, with enough chairs and sofas to comfortably accommodate a dozen or so people at a time, but the walls lined with bookshelves and the always crackling electric fireplace against one wall made it seem somewhat smaller and more cozy. At the moment, much to his delight, he was the only person in there. Everyone else must have decided to take advantage of the rest of the daylight outside, which was more than ok with him, because that meant he didn’t feel bad for choosing a seat on one of the sofas and sprawling out a bit. He curled into a comfortable position, opened his book, and began to read. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everything was absolutely peaceful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For about fifteen minutes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He almost didn’t notice at first that he was no longer alone in the room, not until his concentration was suddenly interrupted by a body plopping itself next to him on the sofa, nearly sitting directly on top of Eddie’s feet. He didn’t even need to look up from the book to know who it was. He’d experienced almost this exact same moment about a hundred times before in his youth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought you were going skiing,” he said, speaking more to the book than to Richie. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was,” Richie answered. “I got as far as renting my equipment and following Staniel and Mrs. Staniel toward the lifts, and then I thought to myself, you know what, Big Dick? That’s what I call myself sometimes. Big Dick.” Eddie closed his eyes for a brief moment, not sure whether he wanted to laugh or to bang his head against the coffee table in front of him. “Big Dick, I said, skiing is great, and you have the whole day tomorrow to do that, but a big part of the reason you’re even here is because you’ve sure missed your favorite little Spaghetti, and wouldn’t it be nicer to go back inside and actually spend some time with him instead?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ignoring the part where Spaghetti made it quite clear he was planning to read?” Eddie pointed out gently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did I say I was gonna interrupt your reading?” Richie said, raising one eyebrow at him. “I’m offended, Spaghedward. We don’t have to talk, I’m happy just to be in your presence while I read… um… this book right here,” he added, grabbing the closest book off the corner of the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Superfudge?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” replied Richie, opening the book and turning it to a random page. “I’m a man who appreciates the literary classics.” He glanced at Eddie over the top of the book, and Eddie felt his resolve grow weaker with every passing second. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, ok,” he said with a sigh, closing his own book and fixing Richie with an inquisitive stare. “What do you want to talk about?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie grinned and tossed poor </span>
  <em>
    <span>Superfudge</span>
  </em>
  <span> back onto the coffee table. “I don’t know, I feel like we haven’t actually caught up yet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I guess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So… let’s catch up, Eds,” Richie continued, tucking his legs up underneath himself and casually slinging an arm over the back of the couch, which caused his fingers to lightly brush up against Eddie’s shoulder. “What have you been up to all these years?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“First of all, my name </span>
  <em>
    <span>still </span>
  </em>
  <span>isn’t Eds,” Eddie said pointedly. </span>
</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Eduardo.”</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie willed his lips not to begin curling into a smile. “I don’t know, I guess I’ve just been… living life? You know. Finishing school. Working.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, how did you end up at an insurance firm?” asked Richie. “That’s… no offense, that’s not what I would have ever imagined you doing. I mean, that makes sense for Stan, but you always told me you wanted to restore old cars and shit. What happened to that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie let out a heavy sigh. “That isn’t exactly an easy thing to parlay into an actual career that pays New York City living expenses money,” he pointed out, surprising himself with how sadly he said it. He usually never thought much about his old childhood dreams, mostly in an effort to convince himself that he was fine with where his career was heading. “Besides, my mom really pushed for me to go into business, so….” He trailed off with a shrug, wishing that Richie would </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh my god just stop looking at him like that already.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, so outside of being a Big Important Business Man, what else have you been up to?” the other man pressed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not much, really. My life is honestly pretty boring,” Eddie insisted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about dating? Got anyone special?” asked Richie teasingly, although there was a certain level of genuine interest in his voice hidden beneath the good natured ribbing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie instantly felt hot all over, but he took it in stride. “Uh… a few guys here and there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Guys</span>
  </em>
  <span>, wow. Does Mrs. K. know?” Richie teased with a raised eyebrow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you fucking insane? She probably thinks I’ll still decide one day to enter a monastery,” said Eddie with a snort. “But yeah, guys. I actually… I just got out of a relationship,” he added, not sure why he was so quickly volunteering this information. He could feel blood rushing to his cheeks, and he hoped to God that Richie would just think it was exceptionally warm in the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh?” Richie looked carefully guarded. “I’m… um… that… that sucks? I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, no, it’s.. it’s fine, really,” Eddie added quickly. “Honestly, it wasn’t going to work out anyway. He wasn’t exactly a great guy.” He thought he saw Richie’s eyes turn ever so slightly darker at these words. </span>
</p>
<p>“Not great how?” the other man asked in a low voice. “What did he do?” Something about the way he asked the question, like he was personally offended on Eddie’s behalf, made Eddie’s stomach do yet another flip as he absentmindedly rolled a corner of one of his book pages between his fingers. </p>
<p>
  <span>“He cheated on me,” he answered bluntly. “I mean, I caught him once, but I’m almost positive it wasn’t the first time. And even if he hadn’t, I really wasn’t feeling it anyway.” He had absolutely zero idea at this point why he was so blatantly opening up to Richie like this, but it felt good. Just like all the other times back in the day when he could talk to him about any problem he was having and know that at least one person was always in his corner without question. “He just wasn’t what I was looking for, I guess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie was quiet for a moment, seemingly processing this and filing it away in his brain. “Well, he was a fucking idiot,” he said at last, clearing his throat and focusing his eyes on a spot somewhere to Eddie’s left. “You can do way better, even if you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> a feral little gremlin.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gee, thanks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I live to speak the truth,” replied Richie, locking eyes with him again and giving him a cheesy smile, which Eddie couldn’t help but return. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, so how about you?” asked Eddie, maneuvering himself to more comfortably face his friend. “How’d you end up becoming Mr. Hollywood Big Shot?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lots of unspeakable acts on casting couches,” Richie quipped. “Nah, actually I just went from audition to audition and threw myself into as many people’s faces as I could until one of them took pity on me and cast me in their movie. I’ll probably still be waiting tables until I’m forty, but at least I’m taking baby steps.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie smiled. “Hey, even a small part is a pretty big deal.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, that’s what your mom always-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> finish that sentence,” Eddie warned. </span>
</p>
<p>“Sorry, I have a decade’s worth of those jokes saved up.”</p>
<p>
  <span>“Beep beep,” said Eddie, gently shoving him in the shoulder before quickly retracting his hand when he realized that the contact was making the receded heat rise right back up into his cheeks. “Ok, so what about </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> dating life?” he asked, genuinely curious and more than a little anxious to find out if Richie was single. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Which didn’t matter to him at all, obviously. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He expected some kind of joke to leave Richie’s mouth, but to his surprise, all he got in reply was a nonchalant shrug. “Nothing much to tell,” the other man said in a careful, measured tone. “There’s been guys, but nothing too serious.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” replied Eddie. He didn’t know why the idea of Richie dating, even casually, gave him such a dark feeling inside, but he did his best to quickly squash that down. He was trying to come up with a clever way to change the subject when a handful of people suddenly entered the room, effectively killing their privacy as several of the women immediately struck up a casual conversation with Richie, who was clearly annoyed but polite about it. Eddie tried to focus back on his book, which was difficult to do, since his attention kept wandering back to one thought and one thought only. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Richie is single. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Interesting. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That doesn’t matter, I don’t care. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But interesting. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rest of the afternoon and evening was pleasant enough. Their little group of four made and ate dinner together in one of the lodge’s two kitchens once Stan and Patty came back in from their ski run, and then settled back into the lounge for a board game marathon from the limited selection housed in one of the room’s bookshelves. In the midst of all the laughter and stories as they played, it was almost too easy for Eddie to forget that he’d ever been nervous about the trip in the first place. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was, until the time came for everyone to retire upstairs, and he had to once again face the fact that he was going to be sharing a bed with Richie. Which, yes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> going to be just fine… until Eddie emerged from the bathroom after changing and brushing his teeth, and re-entered the room to find Richie still in the middle of changing into his own night clothes. Which meant, obviously, that he was still shirtless. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course he was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Jesus Christ on a bike,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Eddie practically whined inside of his own head as he climbed into the bed and quickly tried to avert his eyes. He wasn’t having much success. It was even more clear now just how fit Richie was, not to mention how toned his shoulders and back were. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh my god, just stop looking. Turn the fucking TV on, Eddie. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turned the TV to a rerun of </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Simpsons</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but he did not pay a single bit of attention. He was too busy subtly appreciating how well Richie’s T-shirt fit him, even if it </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> horribly faded and featured a giant picture of Triumph The Insult Comic Dog on the front. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, Eds, scootch over,” said Richie as he finally finished changing and began climbing into the bed beside him. “Are you good? Do you have enough space?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie nodded, his fingers practically death gripping the TV remote in his effort not to die when he felt Richie’s arm accidentally brush against his own. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” He cleared his throat and cast a sidelong glance over at the other man. “You’d better keep your freezing feet to yourself, though. Don’t think I forgot the </span>
  <em>
    <span>last</span>
  </em>
  <span> time we shared a bed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie grinned. “Yeah, well, keep your drool to </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span>self. That was just this afternoon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie flushed, suddenly remembering the car ride up to the lodge. “Fair enough,” he said with a nod, concentrating on calming his fluttering heartbeat as he focused his eyes back on the TV. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Which episode is this?” asked Richie. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The one where Homer joins a barbershop quartet,” answered Eddie, grateful for even a simple question to distract himself from just how close they were at the moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, yes. A classic.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They watched the show in peace for a minute or two, occasionally sharing a laugh together, and it felt so much like old times that Eddie wouldn’t have had any trouble at all believing, if he just closed his eyes, that they had just stepped through time and back to their teenage years. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Rich,” he said with a smile as the show cut to a commercial. “Remember back when we used to-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A sudden noise distracted him, and he lost his train of thought as he looked around to figure out where it had come from. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” asked Richie curiously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you hear that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hear what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The noise repeated itself. “That,” Eddie answered, muting the TV and turning his head over to the wall beside them that separated their room from Stan’s. Richie followed his gaze, and the two of them sat in complete silence for a second until another knocking noise and the sound of a giggle came from the other side of the wall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The fuck are they doing?” Richie whispered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shhh,” hissed Eddie, placing a finger to his lips. Sure enough, a few seconds later there was another knocking noise, another giggle, and then..</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, shit,” whispered Richie with a snort as the giggling turned into low but unmistakable moaning and the knocking grew much more rhythmic. Eddie felt a brief wave of overwhelming embarrassment, but that was quickly and surprisingly overshadowed by amusement as he locked eyes with Richie just as a particularly hard bang against the wall almost knocked off the decorative painting of a bowl of fruit. The two of them erupted into uncontrollable laughter that they tried desperately to keep quiet, Eddie wheezing so much that he had to reach into the drawer on his side of the bed for his inhaler. He took several puffs in between giggles as he watched Richie turning almost beet red with repressed laughter of his own. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Damn, I didn’t know Stan had it in him,” Richie said quietly, his lips pursed together to keep his laughter in as the rhythmic banging and moaning reached a critical mass and then, mercifully, came to a gradual stop. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to call him Stan the Man with a straight face after this,” Eddie added, which caused another round of snorts and giggles that finally died off as they sat facing each other, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Simpsons </span>
  </em>
  <span>long forgotten. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve missed you, Spaghetti,” said Richie, wiping away a mirthful tear as he smiled at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Same, Trashmouth,” Eddie replied, his own smile slowly fading and turning into a gulp as those sparkling ocean eyes worked their way into his soul. He hastily reached for the light switch beside the bed and turned it off, pulling the covers over himself and curling into a comfortable position. “Now let’s get some sleep so we can have enough energy to never let them live this down in the morning.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie laughed and Eddie felt him settling down against his own pillows. “Night, Eddie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Night, Rich.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I KNOW THIS CHAPTER IS LATE AS HECK, I’m so sorry! I’ve just been so damn busy the last few weeks and I’ve barely had any time to write, but hopefully it should NOT be this long between updates anymore. Anyway, enjoy this new chapter, and there’s lots of good stuff to come in the next ones! ^_^</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Eddie wished he could say that the rest of the night passed peacefully, but unfortunately that was not entirely the case. He was very much reminded of the reason why sharing a bed with Richie had always been frustrating when he was awakened a little past midnight by the unmistakable hard kick of a foot against his leg.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my god, what the fuck,” he grumbled sleepily, twisting his body around to glare over at Richie, who was sound asleep, his long limbs tangled in an unholy mess around his half of the blankets. Eddie rolled his eyes and turned back over. He had no sooner closed his eyes again when the other side of the bed shifted and he felt Richie tossing and turning once more, his foot colliding with Eddie’s shin with a rude sting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>it</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Eddie murmured irritably. He carefully removed the topmost blanket from his half of the bed, wrapped it snugly around Richie’s legs, and waited to see what would happen the next time the other man tried to move them. He didn’t have to wait long. Richie turned over once more, his legs twitching but not moving far enough in any direction to reach Eddie’s side. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Perfect,” Eddie whispered quietly, feeling just a little bit bad about what he’d done. He patted Richie gently on the leg in a weird sort of apology, and then tiredly curled back up with his pillow, almost instantly falling into a deep, restful sleep. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next thing he knew, he was opening his eyes to find early morning sunlight beginning to peek through the closed blinds, illuminating the small bedroom with a cozy glow. Eddie yawned and glanced over at Richie. The other man was turned toward him, still dead to the world, his sleeping face looking almost angelic in the soft light of the dawn as he tightly hugged a pillow to his chest. Eddie seized the opportunity to just study him for a moment or two, a small smile beginning to creep over his lips as he remembered the countless times in their youth that he had woken up to almost this exact view, right down to the way Richie’s mouth slightly gaped open and his nose gently crinkled up every once in a while. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yep, same old Richie</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he mused to himself nostalgically. His eyes slowly traveled down Richie’s sleeping form before he could help himself, and he realized, with a sudden rush of heat to his face, that not </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span> was exactly as it had been years ago. He didn’t recall ever seeing the tiniest hint of defined muscle peeking out from beneath the hem of the other man’s shirt before, but this new development wasn’t entirely unwelcome….</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh for fuck’s sake, stop that shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he admonished himself sharply with a shake of his head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You saw him without a shirt at all last night, so why is THIS getting you all bothered? Get up and get a shower in before everyone else wakes up and hogs the bathroom, and try to act like a normal fuckin human for once on this trip.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Carefully, he climbed out of bed and tiptoed over to the wardrobe, where he had neatly tucked all of the clothing he’d packed. He yanked out a change of clothes and practically catapulted himself out of the room and into the bathroom before he could allow himself to waste any more brain power on Richie’s bare skin, instead focusing on working the needlessly complicated taps that adorned every single shower he’d ever seen in the lodge. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There we go,” he murmured to himself as he finally figured them out, turning the cold water on to mix with the hot just slightly more than he normally would. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Can’t hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he mused, still blushing a little at the thought of Richie. He opened the cabinets where he’d temporarily stored his shampoo and body wash, letting out an amused snort when he caught sight of a poorly hidden bottle of lube in the corner behind a can of shaving cream. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Real slick, Stan. So to speak.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Also eeew, you rude bitch, everyone uses this bathroom. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time he had showered, dressed and stepped out of the bathroom, he felt somewhat more normal and ready to start a nice, pleasant day. Carefully, he approached his and Richie’s bedroom door, figuring he could quietly sneak in, grab his book, and be downstairs in the lounge area before the other man even woke up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No such luck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Morning, Eddio,” Richie greeted him as soon as he’d opened the door. He was sitting up in bed, his glasses sitting crookedly on his face as he fixed Eddie with a sleepy grin, and Eddie had to swallow down a lump as Richie’s messy bedhead and stifled yawn practically sent his heart careening back in time. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck, he’s still so cute when he first wakes up. Damn it. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Morning,” Eddie managed to reply with a clear of his throat as he pulled an empty Walmart shopping bag out of the front pocket of one of his suitcases and shoved his dirty clothes into it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Still a morning owl, I see,” Richie teased him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Owls don’t do mornings,” Eddie corrected him. “They’re nocturnal, that’s literally why the phrase </span>
  <em>
    <span>night owl</span>
  </em>
  <span> exists.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know that, you nerd,” replied Richie sarcastically. “Which one of us was always copying whose homework answers again?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t say it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>always.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was a fair amount.” Richie’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he hugged a pillow to his chest and watched Eddie from across the room. “Anyway, it was a joke. You were always a morning person.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, well, maybe that’s just a tiny bit to do with the fact that </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone</span>
  </em>
  <span> always kept me up half the night with their tossing and turning,” Eddie retorted. “Nothing has changed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry, Eds, you know how I get when I’m dreaming about your mom.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Beep beep, asshole!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Theeeeeere he is,” Richie exclaimed with a happy grin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, if you want a shower you should probably get on it now before Stan and Patty get up,” said Eddie, trying to hide a smile at how much Richie was reminding him of an eager puppy. “God only knows how long they’ll be in the bathroom for. I found their spare lube in the cabinet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my god, really?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I shuddered.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie looked thoughtful and slightly impressed. “Goddamn, what happened to Stan in the last few years?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, they </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> say it’s always the quiet ones,” Eddie joked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Didn’t sound so quiet last night,” Richie replied saucily as he stretched and got out of bed. “Be my breakfast date after my shower?” he asked brightly, and Eddie felt the tiniest hint of a flutter in his stomach at the phrasing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Stop that shit right now. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure,” he replied with a smile. He watched Richie leave the room and then took a seat down on the edge of the bed as he let out a long, tense breath. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Get yourself under control, Kaspbrak, it’s only another day and a half. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But god, why does he still manage to look so CUTE in the morning? Fuck him. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He got up and distracted himself with making the bed and straightening up the room until Richie re-entered, the very picture of fresh and clean, his hair still damp and the distinct smell of watermelon body wash clinging to him as he grabbed a hoodie to throw over his long sleeved T-shirt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, bathroom is officially free for the lovebirds to do...whatever the fuck it is they’re planning to do with all that lube,” said Richie. “That bottle is NOT small. Did they buy it at Costco?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m gonna just try not to think about it,” replied Eddie with an embarrassed shiver. “I think we’ve heard enough already. You hungry?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Starving,” said Richie with a wide smile as he pushed his glasses up his nose. “Let’s go downstairs and I’ll rustle us up some pancakes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You will?” asked Eddie with interest. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Richie actually cook anything before. When they were kids, he’d always been the type of person to pour out an entire box of cereal into a mixing bowl and call it gourmet dining. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’ve gotten pretty good at cooking since I’ve been on my own,” replied Richie proudly as he led the way out of the room and down the stairway. “Nothing fancy, but yeah, I can do a lot of the basic shit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m impressed,” said Eddie quietly. “You’re probably better at it than me, to be honest. I… I fuck up most things that I try to cook, so I eat a lot of takeout and sandwiches.” That was true. His mother had stifled him so much during his childhood that he’d never really been given the opportunity to try basic things like cooking, and once he’d moved out he’d been far too busy and exhausted all the time to bother to learn. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two of them walked into the kitchen, which was still blessedly empty at that early hour, and Eddie let out an involuntary shiver as Richie gently placed his hands on his shoulders and sat him down at one of the two high stools in front of the center island. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Make yourself comfortable, Eduardo, I got this,” said Richie, immediately setting about getting his ingredients and tools as if he’d been using that particular kitchen all his life. “I took a mental note last night of where everything was and what kind of food was already in here,” he explained as he took in Eddie’s questioning expression. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good job,” said Eddie with a smile as he watched the other man work, his hands flying expertly all over the place as he cracked eggs and mixed batter in a large bowl before carefully pouring the mixture into a skillet, one pancake at a time. “You really are good at that,” he said in awe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Told ya,” said Richie with pride. “So what’s on your agenda today, Eds?” he asked casually as he reached for his spatula and flipped a cake. “You gonna keep reading your books by the fire?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yep,” replied Eddie pointedly as he got up from his seat and began getting out silverware, plates, and a bottle of syrup. “And you’re actually skiing today, I assume?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, Stan and I are gonna race each other down some of the moderate slopes later,” said Richie as he effortlessly flipped the pancake back over and transferred it onto a waiting paper plate before starting another. “You suuuuure I can't convince you to join us?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope,” Eddie steadfastly refused as he poured them two glasses of orange juice. “But I want you to have fun and then tell me all about it afterwards. Got it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Deal,” chuckled Richie. “Anyway I’m sure you’ll end up with a lot of peace and quiet with everyone else outside.” He transferred one last pancake onto the plate, turned off the stove, and set the entire stack in the middle of the center island before walking around to sit beside Eddie with an eager grin on his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Give me your honest review,” he requested, spearing a pancake with a fork and placing it gently onto Eddie’s plate. Eddie drizzled a tiny bit of syrup onto it before he took hold of his own fork and took a delicate bite. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Best pancakes ever,” Eddie replied genuinely, his heart warming at the way Richie’s face practically glowed with pride. The two of them ate in relaxed contentment for a while, and Eddie didn’t even mind so much the way that his stomach flipped every time Richie fixed him with that adorable puppy smile of his. He was beginning to let himself enjoy it a little, actually.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have syrup on your face,” he said once they’d just about finished off the whole stack of pancakes. He reached over before he could stop himself, using the corner of his paper towel to gently dab at the drop of syrup on Richie’s chin. “You always were a messy eater.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I heard that same thing so many times from your mother.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie glared at him, trying to come up with a biting comeback, but unfortunately it seemed as if everybody in the entire lodge decided to descend upon the kitchen at that very moment. He settled on giving Richie a look that plainly said </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll kill you later, Trashmouth</span>
  </em>
  <span> and set to work cleaning up their dishes while practically everyone in the room, especially the women and teen girls, focused their attention onto Richie, who politely humored them while giving Eddie an apologetic smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was amusing, as always, to see so many women fawning over a </span>
  <em>
    <span>clearly</span>
  </em>
  <span> disinterested Richie, but Eddie had to admit, he felt a flash of… </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> when he heard Brenda, of all people, asking him if he was planning on doing any skiing and practically inviting herself along with him when Richie courteously told her that he was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ugh. Poor Richie. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe I SHOULD go out with him today. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Not to actually ski, or anything, but just to hang out and keep him company whenever Stan is off with Patty. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Just for a LITTLE while. You know, just to protect him from all these vultures.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That would be the good friend thing to do, wouldn’t it? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I should, I should be a good friend. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even notice that Stan and Patty had also entered the kitchen until he turned around after washing his last dish and saw them standing there casually chatting with Richie, the rest of the crowd thankfully having mostly dispersed to start gathering their own breakfasts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So Stan and I are gonna head out just as soon as we grab a quick bite,” Patty was saying. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Great,” Richie replied brightly. “I’ll gather all of my shit and meet you by the lifts in about an hour?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure,” said Stan, his eyes roaming over to Eddie as he gave him a small smile. “You gonna stay back today, Eddie?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Eddie replied quickly, the word almost burning his tongue on its way out of his mouth before he could do much thinking about it. Three pairs of eyes stared him down incredulously, none of them looking as shocked as Richie’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, what?” asked Stan, both eyebrows raised in surprise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… I changed my mind,” Eddie stammered, heat rising to settle directly in his cheeks. “I’m gonna come with you today.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His friends were quiet for a moment until Patty broke the ice by grinning and rushing over to give Eddie an enthusiastic hug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is great!” she exclaimed happily. “You’ll have so much fun, I promise. You can start with the really small slopes, those won’t be so intimidating for you, and…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie nodded in response as she kept speaking, but he wasn’t really listening. His eyes caught Stan’s, which were looking from him to Richie and back again with barely contained amusement. He then glanced over at Richie himself, who was still in obvious shock even as he gave him an excited smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought you were gonna read all day, Spaghetti Man,” he teased him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I changed my mind, ok?” Eddie repeated with a roll of his eyes, eager for the third degree to be over and done with. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just now,” replied Eddie, crossing his arms with an involuntary pout.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you ever even skied before?” Richie asked curiously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have, for your information,” Eddie huffed. That wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>entirely</span>
  </em>
  <span> true. He’d taken a lesson exactly one time and then quit, but Richie didn’t need to know that. “Like… a few times.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s interesting, cause I’m pretty sure you said that you hated sk-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I’m gonna go upstairs and get myself ready,” Eddie interrupted him before he could finish that sentence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, then,” Richie conceded with a teasing grin. “When you’re ready I’ll go with you to the rental office and we’ll get you all suited up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Great.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Great.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie turned and exited the kitchen as if it were on fire, which it might as well have been, judging by how his entire body felt like an overworked furnace at the moment. What the fuck had he just gotten himself into? He didn’t know if he could even remember the basics about skiing from his solitary lesson. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea after a-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Brenda’s high pitched laugh sounding from the kitchen caused his eyes to narrow on reflex, and he cast aside all thoughts of giving up. No way in hell was he staying in and just letting Richie be mobbed to death by his newfound fan club. Besides, how hard could skiing really be on a small hill? If he tried hard enough, surely he could recall enough to get him through an easy slope. Maybe it would even be fun.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He bounded up to his and Richie’s bedroom and additionally outfitted himself in a thin hoodie beneath an extra thick blue jacket lined with fleece, a pair of long johns underneath his jeans, three pairs of socks, because if there was one thing eddie absolutely fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated </span>
  </em>
  <span>it was having cold feet, a fuzzy blue scarf that matched his jacket, gloves, and a coordinating knit hat. Moving freely was a bit difficult when he was finished, but at least he would be warm </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> have plenty of padding should he take a tumble onto his ass at any point in this ill-advised adventure. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Good thing I always overpack. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He descended back downstairs, patting his pockets to make sure he’d remembered his pills and a small first-aid kit, and was almost immediately confronted in the lodge’s front hallway by Richie, whose midnight ocean eyes were practically dancing with glee at the sight of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Michelin Man, I was supposed to meet my friend Eddie over here so we could go skiing, have you seen him?” he asked mirthfully. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not all of us want to die of frostbite today, dickwad,” retorted Eddie from beneath his layers. “Which you just might if you’re gonna insist on going outside in only that sad-ass hoodie, by the way. It’s thirty degrees out right now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My blood runs hot,” said Richie with a shrug. “Can you move in all that wrapping, or will you be requiring some assistance?” Several of Eddie’s co-workers passed by them and gave him amused looks before fixing Richie with more interested ones. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine, let’s go,” Eddie mumbled, giving the other man a gentle push toward the door before anyone else could invite themselves along. He followed Richie out of the lodge and down the narrow dirt path which led to the equipment rental office. Fortunately, since everyone else on the trip who needed to rent equipment had already done so the day before, there was no line to wait in, and so less than thirty minutes later, Eddie was additionally adorned with a helmet, poles, goggles, slightly uncomfortable boots, and, of course, skis. He looked and felt ridiculous, walking was a chore, and he didn’t even want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> about how many germs might reside in the helmet, the goggles, and the boots, but at least he was fully prepared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now what?” he asked Richie.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie smiled as he snapped on his own goggles awkwardly over his glasses. “Now we head to the lifts.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The… you mean those… those stupid hanging chairs???” Eddie exclaimed. He’d somehow managed to forget entirely that he would need to ride the ski lift in order to actually get to any of the slopes. Which was an amazing feat, considering how much the very idea of them terrified him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, Eds, how did you think you were going to get up the slope?” asked Richie. “You can’t exactly walk.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But… those things cannot be safe,” Eddie protested. “They’re on a fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>wire</span>
  </em>
  <span>, what if it breaks and drops us who even knows how many feet?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie laughed. “Eddie, come on, thousands of people ride ski lifts every day, they’re perfectly safe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How the fuck do you know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, I’ll be right next to you the entire time. If you start to fall off, I’ll catch you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That doesn’t answer my question about what happens if the actual chair falls,” mumbled Eddie. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then I’ll make sure I hit the ground first so you can land safely on top of my broken and mangled body,” replied Richie, and Eddie could just </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> the other man’s eyes rolling even though he couldn’t really see them at the moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, well when you put it that way,” Eddie murmured with a small smile, starting to feel just a tiny bit better even though the thought of riding a lift still mostly made him want to barf. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, Eds, you don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to do this if you’re really that scared,” Richie said in a softer voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am NOT scared,” Eddie lied with a huff, trying and failing to cross his arms due to his many layers of clothing. “I’m just… cautious.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you’re absolutely sure you want to do this?” Richie asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As long as you can guarantee I’m going to survive the experience in one piece.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I won’t let you get hurt, Spaghetti, I promise,” Richie insisted seriously. “Now come on, follow me.” Eddie reluctantly did so, allowing Richie to lead him down the long path that eventually split into several different directions, each fork in the path leading to a ski lift line that serviced a different section of the slopes. Most of their travel companions, Stan and Patty included, were already in line for the lifts to the more difficult hills by the time they arrived. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, you guys finally made it!” Patty exclaimed as she and Stan turned to wave at them. Several of Richie’s fan club practically fell over each other in their hurry to wave him over to join the line. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, sorry, me and Eds are gonna hit the short slopes for a while,” Richie called as Eddie gave the Urises an awkward wave back. He couldn’t help but be greatly amused at the quiet but still audible groans of disappointment from some of the others when they heard Richie’s plans. “Let’s meet up in an hour or so and then I’ll whip Stan’s ass in a race or two.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go fuck yourself!” Stan replied indignantly, even though Eddie could see that he was smiling underneath his ski goggles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have fun, guys!” Patty called to them before the line began moving and she and Stan disappeared into the crowd. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Andale, Eduardo, ours is this way,” said Richie, leading Eddie further down a fork in the path that ended at the entrance to a much smaller line. Eddie looked up, hoping that maybe if he looked at the chairs in action, they’d stop being so intimidating. It didn’t exactly work, but at least the wire holding them in the air didn’t look as weak and thin as he’d been imagining, so there was that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, so what we’re gonna do is, we’re gonna get in line, stop on the marked line when it’s our turn, and wait for the chair to come and scoop us up,” Richie explained. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We wait for </span>
  <em>
    <span>what????</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Eddie exclaimed, his nervousness back in full force. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We wait for the chair to scoop us up,” Richie repeated as they stepped forward in line. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We don’t just climb on?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry, Eddio, that’s not how this works,” Richie said sympathetically. “You sure you still wanna do this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie gulped, his eyes traveling back upwards toward the horizon where the chairs were clearly visible, some of them carrying people who looked as nonchalant as though they were in an ordinary train car.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Y-yes,” he replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Eddie repeated, more determined now. Not because he wasn’t still just a little scared, but because he’d never had a reason in his life not to trust Richie, so if Richie said it would be ok, then he supposed it would be. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok,” said Richie as their turn finally came up. “Grab your poles and wait on the mark. Which is what your mom alwa-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know what, I changed my mind,” Eddie muttered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, ok, I’m sorry,” Richie quickly backtracked. “Bend your knees just a little, and the chair is coming for us… NOW,” he said suddenly. Eddie barely had time to react before he felt something hit the back of his knees and throw him backward into a sitting position as their chair began ascending into the air. He let out a yelp and nearly dropped his poles as he instinctively grabbed onto Richie’s arm and tried not to look down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whoa, Eds, it’s ok,” Richie said with a laugh, gently patting Eddie’s arm with his free hand after lowering the metal bar down onto their laps. “You made it, it’s smooth sailing from here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Richard, we still have to get </span>
  <em>
    <span>off</span>
  </em>
  <span> this stupid thing,” Eddie screeched, still clinging onto the other man as best he could in his marshmallow layers of clothing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I told you I’m not going to let you get hurt, Eds,” Richie assured him. “If it makes you feel better, just don’t look down and you can continue cutting my circulation off until we get to the top.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie loosened his grip just a little, but he didn’t let go. Holding onto Richie felt safer somehow than not doing it, and he had the feeling that he was going to trigger an asthma attack if he let go now, especially with the way the chair was swaying. After a brief debate with himself, he did chance a glance down below their feet. To his surprise, it didn’t look nearly as horrifying as he’d assumed it would. They were high up, sure, but they must have been getting closer to the top of the slope, since the ground looked a lot closer than it felt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, Eds, I’m going to lift the bar up now,” said Richie gently after a moment. “Stand up when I say, alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmm hmm,” Eddie murmured, his breathing quickening as he mentally prepared himself for what was to come. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not that I mind in the least, but you’re gonna have to let go of my arm,” the other man added with a cheeky grin. Eddie did, taking hold of his ski poles in both hands as he waited for Richie’s signal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Get ready… tip your skis forward… good… ok… stand up!” Richie instructed him, and Eddie did exactly as he was told, standing up straight as Richie’s hands on his back carefully guided the both of them safely away from the unloading area. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy shit, we lived!” Eddie exclaimed happily, reaching into his pocket for his inhaler and taking a comforting puff just to calm his nerves. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well yeah, you fucknut, I told you we would,” laughed Richie as they walked over to the top of a slightly steep incline. “Now the question is, are you going to be able to ski down this slope?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Eddie answered with a confidence he didn’t exactly feel, but since he was still riding high from surviving the lift, he figured he had it in him to do anything at the moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?” Richie asked teasingly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What, you think I’m lying?” said Eddie indignantly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well for starters, you’re holding your poles all wrong,” Richie pointed out. He positioned himself behind Eddie and carefully arranged his arms the correct way, the close contact and the way the other man just absolutely dwarfed him causing Eddie to instantly flush hot beneath his clothes, despite the chilly winter air. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, now point your feet a little bit the other way…. good,” said Richie, still standing behind him with his arms around him in a way that Eddie wouldn’t have minded going on for a while. “Remember, if you french fry when you should pizza, you’re gonna have a bad time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The fuck does that mean?” Eddie asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not a </span>
  <em>
    <span>South Park </span>
  </em>
  <span>fan, Eds?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not particularly, no.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, never mind. You’re positioned just fine. Now all you have to do is push off aaaand...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Regrettably, he stepped aside and Eddie took a deep breath before he pushed off and began gliding down the slope, any residual nervousness fading away as he successfully made it all the way down and then turned to give Richie a triumphant look that he doubted the other man could see from all the way up there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never underestimate me, Trashmouth!” he called out gleefully as he watched Richie effortlessly ski down and land right in front of him, bits of snow sticking to the flyaway pieces of the man’s hair that were poking out of his hat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not terrible,” said Richie with a smile that went straight to Eddie’s heart. “Shall we do another run?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck yeah,” agreed Eddie enthusiastically, plans for reading in the lodge slowly but surely making their way to the back burner as the prospect of spending more of the day with Richie started to seem vastly more appealing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stayed on the small slope for the better part of the morning, Eddie’s confidence getting stronger as he got better, until they eventually called it quits and made their way over to join their friends on the more moderate slopes. While Richie and Stan immediately began hurling competitive barbs at each other as they prepared to race, Eddie took a seat on a nearby observation bench next to Patty, who fixed him with an inquisitive smile as she removed her ski goggles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” she said casually. “Been having a good morning with Richie?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” replied Eddie, smiling as he watched his two friends nearly crash into one another before Richie lobbed a small snowball at Stan’s face. “I’ve really missed that shithead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patty laughed brightly. “Yeah, I can tell. Stanley tells me you two used to be really close.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We were,” Eddie sighed nostalgically. “I mean, our whole friend group was, all seven of us, but Stan and Richie and I, and our friend Bill… we were always the closest. And I’d call all of them my best friends, but with Richie… I don’t know. I guess I always felt a different kind of closeness with him? I don’t know how to explain it, it was like… I could talk his ear off about absolutely anything, and he’d never get tired of me or whatever. I knew he was always listening, even if he made a stupid joke about it. And he would trust me with stuff he would have never told the other Losers, and it felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice</span>
  </em>
  <span> being someone’s confidante like that, you know?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He caught himself rambling and blushed, clearing his throat as he stared off into the distance and tried to ignore the knowing smile he could just feel Patty giving him right then. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So… yeah,” he murmured awkwardly. “I guess you could say I’ve missed him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I don’t know Richie that well yet, obviously, but if you ask me, I think he’s definitely missed you, too,” Patty replied as she watched her husband glide to the bottom of the hill just behind Richie, who pointed at him and let out a loud “HA-HA!” in an almost spot-on impression of Nelson Muntz. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You think?” Eddie asked, hiding a smile as he watched the other two men fondly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d bet money on it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie swallowed down a lump and felt his fingers start to tingle as his heart tried to remind him once again of the feelings he’d been attempting to repress ever since he’d seen Richie walk up to him in that bar. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Stop it, you’re not sixteen anymore, you’re not sixteen anymore, YOU’RE NOT SIXTEEN ANYMORE..</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh no. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>OH no. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luckily, Eddie managed to get a grip on himself and feel relatively normal by the time the four of them had tired of the slopes and had retreated back to the warmth of the lodge to eat sandwiches by the fireplace in the nearly empty living room and try to agree on a board game to play. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How about The Game of Life?” Patty suggested as her eyes roamed over the sparsely filled game shelves. “I haven’t played that in a while.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know, I’ve never been good at Life,” Richie joked, taking an obscenely large bite of his tomato and mayonnaise sandwich and grinning at Eddie with chipmunk cheeks. Eddie bit his lip, but not enough to stop a short giggle from escaping, which seemed to please Richie immensely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, a lot of this shit is for little kids,” Stan pointed out. “So it’s either that, Barrel of Monkeys, or Don’t Wake Daddy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I’ve played Don’t Wake Daddy recently,” Richie mused thoughtfully. “Although that was with my last boyfriend and I’m quite sure that was a very different version of the game.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stan gave him a withering look as Patty snorted in amusement and Eddie tried not to spontaneously combust from the mental image he now had in his head, which he couldn’t decide was a blessing or a curse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Great, now I’m thinking about him calling some random man Daddy, someone please end me right now.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As nauseating and unasked for as that information is, I think we can all agree that Life is the best choice here,” said Stan with an eye roll, carrying the game over to the coffee table and proceeding to set it up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Make fun all you want, Staniel, but I’m not the one who almost caused an earthquake upstairs last night” Richie retorted with delight, having clearly waited all day to bring this little tidbit up. Stan turned scarlet, but Patty seemed to take it in stride and shrugged her shoulders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Be jealous, guys,” she said casually as she carefully placed a pink peg inside her plastic white car-shaped game piece. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, Patricia! Mad respect,” said Richie, reaching over the table to give her a high five as Stan slapped his palm across his own face. “Be proud of that booty you married!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I really should have drowned you in the quarry back home years ago,” Stan muttered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You couldn’t live without me, Stanford,” Richie shot back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Besides, if anyone is gonna kill Richie, it’s gonna be me,” Eddie spoke up. “He’s had it coming forty times over for every single mom joke he’s thrust on me since puberty.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ha, you said thrust,” Richie said with a Joker-like grin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Beep beep, asshole!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, kids, let’s start,” said Patty gently as she spun the giant dial in the middle of the game board. “I’ll go first.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The four of them began taking turns playing, and Eddie took a delicate bite of his turkey sandwich, doing his best to concentrate all of his energy on chewing it instead of focusing on how adorable Richie looked with his dumb hair all messy and his dark red hoodie clinging to his stupid big shoulders and his stupid huge hands that-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yo, Eds, it’s your turn to spin,” Richie prodded him, ripping him right out of his thoughts. Eddie saw Patty and Stan exchange amused glances as he shook his head and flicked the spinner, moving his tiny blue car to the space just in front of Richie’s. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oooh, you have to get married, Eddie,” Stan teased him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who’s the lucky fella?” Patty asked with a smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Obviously, it’s me,” spoke up Richie, causing Eddie’s heart to skip several beats. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excuse me?” he squeaked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie gave him an exaggerated wounded look. “Don’t even tell me you don’t remember when we were five years old, and Bill saw a wedding on some soap opera his mom watched and thought we should all play pretend wedding, and he married Stan and you married me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie blushed. Now that Richie mentioned it, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> vaguely remember that. He even remembered Bill officiating their make-believe union, directing them when to slip their Ring Pops on each other’s fingers and pronouncing them joined together “in holy moly.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>How had I ever forgotten THAT??</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stanley!” Patty gasped dramatically. “You should have told me you were already married before our wedding, this is awkward.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stan laughed and leaned over to kiss her. “It’s fine, babes, Bill and I didn’t work out long term. We’re still friends, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anyway, Eds, I don’t recall us ever getting officially divorced,” Richie said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you know we didn’t get an annulment and I’m marrying someone else?” Eddie teased him back, hoping that none of the other three could hear just how fast his heart was beating right then. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And who, pray tell, would make a better husband for you than me?” Richie asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie thought for a moment. “Jeff Goldblum,” he answered at last, grinning as he stuck a second blue peg into the plastic car beside his own and relished the offended look on the other man’s face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jeff Goldblum</span>
  </em>
  <span>??? You still have a crush on </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> after all these years?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yep.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s that nerd got that </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t have?” Richie exclaimed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A mansion with a pool, probably?” Eddie offered. “And millions of dollars to buy me every single </span>
  <em>
    <span>Thundercats</span>
  </em>
  <span> action figure ever made.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ooooh, you’re trying to be a sugar baby,” Richie teased. “I see how it is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie flushed tomato red as he took another bite of his sandwich and watched Richie take his turn at the spinner. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would you look at that, now it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> turn to get married,” said Richie, reaching into the game box for another blue peg. “I guess since my tiny cutie of a husband has forsaken me for fuckin Brundlefly, I have no choice but to pick up the shattered pieces of my life and marry my second choice. If Fred Savage is still single, that is,” said Richie dramatically as he placed the peg inside his car. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh come on!” Eddie exclaimed. “At least </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> husband makes sense.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, have you looked at Fred Savage lately, Eds?” Richie asked. “He still got it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, well so does Jeff.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wish you two the happiest of lives together,” Richie ribbed him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Likewise. Hope his </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wonder Years</span>
  </em>
  <span> residual money doesn’t run dry up any time soon,” Eddie said as he finished his sandwich with a huff. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At least my husband is my own age. Hope yours doesn’t keel over and die too early since he’s like twenty years older than you,” retorted Richie. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would you two like to have some privacy and take this up to your bedroom, or can we continue playing?” Stan spoke up sarcastically. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie blushed and Richie looked slightly pink himself as the two of them sat back against the sofa cushions and fixed each other with sidelong glances. The game continued, but Eddie was only half paying attention. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mostly, he was thinking about that long ago summer day in Bill Denbrough’s backyard; a day that he’d somehow managed to forget, but which he now couldn’t get out of his mind even if he wanted to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And maybe just a little about what Fred Savage could possibly have that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>How’s that whole “He’s still just your old friend, it’s fiiiiiine” shit working out for you, Eddie? You absolute asshole. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When night fell again at long last, Eddie was already fully prepared with several extra pillows he had stolen out of the linen closet on the second floor. He placed them carefully right in the middle of the bed and gave Richie an apologetic look when the other man climbed under the covers and looked questioningly at the new barrier between them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jesus, Eds, if you find me </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> repulsive, you could have just said,” he joked as he settled in and made himself comfortable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not you that I find repulsive, it’s the idea of getting no sleep tonight because you lose all control of your limbs in your sleep like you’re made of limp noodles,” replied Eddie. “The pillows will make it less likely that I’ll have to murder you in the middle of the night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ouch, maybe it’s not such a bad thing after all that you didn’t remember our wedding,” Richie said, placing a hand over his heart as he pretended to be hurt. “Good luck, Jeff Goldblum, if he’s gotta be the one to deal with </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> attitude from now on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie snorted and playfully slapped him with his pillow. “Yeah, well, rest in peace to Fred Savage’s legs, you can kick </span>
  <em>
    <span>him </span>
  </em>
  <span>in </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> sleep all night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do only kick the cute ones,” Richie retorted. “So you should feel honored. Half the women in this building would kill for me to kick them in their sleep.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>bet</span>
  </em>
  <span> they would,” Eddie snorted. “I’d watch out when you become a big fancy Hollywood star, if I were you. Your fans are gonna be ruthless.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aaaw Eds,” said Richie in an exaggerated baby voice as he pretended to wipe away an imaginary tear. “That’s sweet of you to assume I’ll ever make it that far in Hollywood.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You will,” Eddie insisted sincerely. “I always thought you would.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmm hmm.” Eddie turned out the light, sank down into the covers and wrapped his arms around his pillow with an exhausted yawn. “Always.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a moment of quiet as the darkness settled and the muffled sounds of everyone on the floor below them slowly began to fade. Eddie felt the other half of the bed shift just a little, and then he heard Richie voice quietly whispering over the pillow barrier. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey… Eddie?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“......N-nothing. Nothing. Sorry. Good night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He must have fallen right asleep, because when he next opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was heavy snow falling in a ceaseless sheet outside of the glass doors leading to their balcony. He just barely registered the sound of a howling wind accompanying the snow when he suddenly realized what had actually awakened him, which wasn’t the storm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought in a panic as he fumbled in the drawer beside the bed for his inhaler, his breath coming out in short, gasping wheezes as bits and pieces of the horrible nightmare he’d been having flitted through his mind briefly before fading away into nothingness. He’d had night terrors like this ever since he was little, and few things were ever as frustrating as the fact that he rarely ever remembered them clearly. They were more abstract images than anything else, but they sure as fuck always left him a mess in their wake. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His fingers found the inhaler and he hurriedly brought it to his mouth, taking several puffs as he waited for the tightness in his chest to lessen, tears involuntarily streaming down his face as his entire body shook with adrenaline and fear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eddie?” He felt the other side of the bed stirring and heard the sound of Richie’s hand blindly reaching for his glasses on his nightstand. “Eddie,” he repeated softly, reaching over him for the light switch. “What’s the matter?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The room was suddenly filled with light, and Eddie could see the other man’s dark eyes clouded over as he looked down at him with concern. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… I had…” Eddie tried to explain, his breathing still not steady enough to allow him to say much more than that. He took another puff from his inhaler and did his best to focus on getting a complete sentence out. “I had a.. had a nightmare,” he finally managed to say. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie frowned. “Like when you were a kid?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie nodded. “You remember?” he wheezed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” said Richie, reaching over to carefully brush a lock of hair out of Eddie’s eyes. “You still get those, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not… not as much as back then, but… but…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look at me, Eds, focus on me,” Richie said softly, and Eddie could swear he was a kid again in that moment, the sound of those exact words coming out of his friend again after so many years filling him with an odd sense of comfort. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not as much as back then,” Eddie repeated, trying to focus on Richie’s face and nothing else. “I’ve had one or two lately, but…” He didn’t know how to finish that sentence, and he was honestly too tired to try, but Richie seemed to understand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know, Eds, when we were kids, I, uh… well…” Richie looked slightly uncomfortable, as though he weren’t sure if he should continue what he was going to say. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” asked Eddie curiously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just… whenever we were at a sleepover and this happened to you, you always felt a lot better after a hug,” Richie finished at last, offering him a small, sincere smile, which Eddie returned in kind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s true,” he agreed. Richie always </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> given the best hugs back then. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And, well… me and my hugs are right here,” Richie continued carefully, his cheeks flushing adorably in the dim light. “You know. If you need me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie hesitated for only a moment, his fingers slowly letting go of their grip on his inhaler as he found himself scooting closer to Richie and pushing the wall of pillows out of the way. He offered his arms out and Richie took the hint, enveloping him in a firm embrace as Eddie rested his head against the other man’s shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The effect on him was almost instantaneous. He immediately felt himself relaxing right down to his very core, every muscle in his body letting go of what felt like years of tension as he sank against Richie’s broad chest. The feeling of the other man’s strong arms holding him so tightly was intoxicating, as was the sweet smell of his skin, but beneath all of those new and exciting sensations, Eddie could still feel that overwhelming sense of comfort and absolute safety he’d always gotten from a good Richie Tozier hug. Like nothing could get at him, just as long as he stayed in Richie’s arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Feel better?” Richie asked softly, rubbing soothing circles into Eddie’s back as he hugged him close. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The warmth that suddenly flooded Eddie’s body provided an interesting contrast to the howling storm outside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Much.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I AM SO SORRY THIS WAS LATE AF, I AM THE WORST! This chapter is extra long though AAAAND contains a spicy sexy sex scene, so reader discretion advised, but also please enjoy ^_^</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey… Eds?” Richie is letting his feet drag through the dry dirt below him as the swing he’s slightly too big for gradually comes to a stop. He’s been quiet for a while already, and his sudden words bring Eddie out of his own little thought cloud. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah?” Eddie asks, letting his own swing slow its momentum so that he can match himself to Richie’s level. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Can I ask you a question?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You just did.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Richie smiles for a brief moment, a lock of unruly dark hair falling over his eyes. He blows it back and looks over at Eddie, absentmindedly adjusting his glasses. It’s late; the playground is dark and empty except for the two of them, the only sounds coming from crickets and the Whitney Houston song emanating from Richie’s portable boombox. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s been their summer night ritual for years (at least, whenever Eddie can manage to escape from his house at night without risking his mom finding out and subsequently losing her shit), and even though they’re almost high school seniors now and rapidly outgrowing the swings and don’t have the time to do it as much anymore, it’s still a much welcome retreat; a time when they can just hang out together, shoot the shit, and forget for a while that the pressures of their upcoming adult lives are encroaching on them more and more with every passing day. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Ok, then can I ask you another question?” Richie retorts, the moonlight illuminating his face just enough for Eddie to note the uncharacteristic seriousness on his face. “And you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to, I’m just curious.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Ok,” Eddie replies, his interest piqued. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Richie is silent for a moment, his long fingers gripping the metal chains of his swing like they’re a lifeline. “Have… have you ever… um… like… kissed anyone?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Eddie’s feet involuntarily drag through the dirt and bring his swing to a complete and sudden stop.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“What?” he asks, his cheeks suddenly rising to the same temperature as Freddy Krueger’s boiler room. He looks over at Richie, waits for a snort or an eye roll or a punchline to whatever kind of dumbass joke the other boy might be trying to make, but none of it comes. Richie looks nervous, actually, like he’s instantly regretting asking the question now that it’s out. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I just… actually, you know what, forget it, it was a stupid question,” Richie stammers, fixing his eyes down toward his feet. “I’m a fucking idiot, ignore me.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“It… it’s not a stupid… I mean, it’s… it’s out of the blue, but…” Eddie can’t quite find the words he’s looking for to make Richie feel better, even though he knows that the easiest course of action for both of them would be to take the out that the other boy has just offered and ignore the question. “I mean, I…. I haven’t,” he continues, flushing even more as he says the words aloud. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Really?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Well, yeah, dingus, don’t you think I would have told you if I had?” Eddie ribs him good naturedly. “Also, when would I have the opportunity to kiss anyone? My mom is always up my ass.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“That’s a nice break for me from being up hers,” Richie quips, a smile spreading across his face as Eddie groans. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I set myself up for that one, so I won’t tell you to go fuck yourself,” he mutters. “This time.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re a kind and forgiving Spaghetti.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“So, have you?” Eddie asks after a minute or two of quiet, digging a hole in the dirt with the toe of his sneaker. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“What, kissed someone?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah.” It strikes Eddie all of a sudden how legitimately curious he is to hear Richie’s answer. Maybe even a little anxious. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait, what?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Richie is silent for a beat or two, his face thoughtful, as though he’s perhaps considering feeding Eddie a complete bullshit lie, but ultimately he shakes his head and grips the swing chains tighter. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“No,” he says, almost in a whisper. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>A nonsensical rush of relief fills Eddie’s body for a brief moment before passing, and he can’t even begin to explain what the fuck possesses him to say what he says next, and he swears, he SWEARS he only means it as a joke, but he honestly doesn’t know. Regardless, the words are tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop them. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Maybe we should practice it, then.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie’s eyes abruptly opened, his internal alarm clock tearing him from his combination dream and memory and depositing him rudely back into the present before he could fully relive what had come next. He was so disappointed that, for a moment or two, he didn’t even process the fact that he was still in Richie’s arms. Well, sort of. Most of Richie was actually a sprawled out mess of disarrayed limbs, his glasses were still on, and he was very lightly snoring. But technically, one of his arms was still…. well, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>around</span>
  </em>
  <span> Eddie, exactly, but certainly underneath him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Semantics aside, Eddie’s heart still skipped a beat or two at the discovery as he carefully turned to face him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie must have sensed that he was being stared at, because the snoring abruptly stopped as the other man’s eyes fluttered open. Unlike Eddie, he seemed to realize their situation almost immediately, an embarrassed look crossing his face as he gently dislodged his arm from under Eddie’s back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” he murmured sleepily, removing his glasses and rubbing at the indention they’d created on his face overnight. “I didn’t mean to use you like a teddy bear all night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie smiled. “It’s ok. Actually, I slept pretty great. I forgot how soothing your hugs are.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, they don’t call me Butter Arms Richie for nothing,” Richie quipped, sliding his glasses back on and giving him a lopsided smile that was half hidden by his pillow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do they really call you that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, no. No, I have to admit, I pulled that from my ass just now,” Richie replied. For a moment, the two of them lay there facing each other, sharing amused smiles, and it seemed to Eddie as though, strangely, all was right with the world. That was, until he suddenly remembered what day it was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So… I guess we’re leaving today,” he said quietly, not quite sure why the very thought filled him with a profound sense of sadness. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess so,” Richie replied, sounding almost as disappointed as Eddie felt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will I… will I still see you around?” Eddie asked casually, clearing his throat as he averted his eyes to a stray thread on his pillowcase. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A cloud settled over Richie’s dark blue eyes. “I don’t know. I mean, well… I don’t know what my agent has planned for me next, or where that’s gonna take me, so… I don’t know how much longer I’ll be in New York.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” Eddie was silent for a moment, letting the other man’s words settle in his brain and trying to push aside the inexplicable sorrow he felt at the idea of going back to his boring, Richie-less daily life. The prospect was so unpleasant to think about that he immediately sat up and threw the blankets off of himself, determined to do absolutely anything for a distraction. He rooted around in the drawer of his side table for his bottle of morning pills, swallowing one down dry before standing up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We should probably start packing,” he said in his business voice as he tried hard not to focus on the searching look Richie was giving him. “That way it’s all done and we won’t have to rush around when the time comes to check out.” He busied himself with gathering his suitcases, sensing Richie slowly crossing the room to join him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Need any help?” the other man asked him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, could you hand me that little toiletry bag over on the table?” Eddie asked, focusing all of his energy on carefully putting items in their assigned spots so that he wouldn’t have to think about how close they were to the end of the weekend. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure,” replied Richie. He grabbed the bag, but stopped in his tracks halfway to handing it over as he seemed to be suddenly distracted by something else. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh…. Eds?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm?” said Eddie as he carefully folded a shirt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think you’re gonna need to finish that packing,” replied Richie. “Not right now, anyway.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Eddie dropped the shirt down into a suitcase and looked over at Richie, who was standing in front of the glass balcony doors with a look of amazement on his face. “Why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, for starters, the road out of here is gone,” Richie answered, and Eddie followed his gaze over to the doors, sucking in a gasp as he realized that the storm from the previous night, which he’d all but forgotten about amid the distractions of the morning, was still going on. Large, fat snowflakes were continuing to fall onto the already white blanketed ground below, and the tiny bit of the parking lot that could be seen around the corner might as well have been made of marshmallows. The turbulent wind could faintly be heard still whistling among the trees. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the fuck,” Eddie breathed out as he stepped over to stand next to Richie, both of them watching in awe as the sky relentlessly continued its assault. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Richie agreed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where the fuck did this even come from?” Eddie mused. “The weather report for this weekend just said it would be cold, it said nothing about snow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know, but it looks like a Hollywood afterparty out there,” said Richie. “There’s no way in hell anyone’s car is making it out of this shit any time soon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie watched the snowflakes continue to fall and thought of the endlessly winding, isolated path that led from the lodge to the main road out of town. He knew that Richie was right. There was no possible way they’d be leaving that day. Under normal circumstances, this might have been cause for him to start having the mother of all anxiety attacks. However, in this particular instance, he couldn’t help but to view this turn of events as the answer to a prayer he hadn’t realized he was saying, because one pervasive thought at the forefront of his mind was preventing him from going into full panic mode. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I have more time with Richie. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of his phone ringing on the nightstand cut his silent rejoicing short, but he still smiled to himself as he crossed the room to answer it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s up, Stan?” he said after reading the caller ID and flipping the phone open. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You seeing this shit?” Stan exclaimed, foregoing any sort of greeting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, what the fuck?” Eddie answered as he crossed back over to Richie and stood close, the phone set to speaker mode so that the other man could hear, too. ”I take it this means we aren’t going home today?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, we aren’t,” replied Stan. “I don’t know about any of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>other</span>
  </em>
  <span> people on this trip, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m</span>
  </em>
  <span> not driving in this. Besides, everyone’s cars are completely buried, and I’d be extremely shocked if the main road isn’t closed, even if we could somehow make it there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But how did this just come out of nowhere?” Eddie wondered aloud. “I checked the weather religiously before we left.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t have a clue,” replied Stan, and Eddie could just picture him shrugging his shoulders as he spoke. “But I already spoke to Brenda and to the front desk. Management doesn’t have an issue with all of us staying put until it’s safe to leave, since no one can get here to check in, either. Honestly, it might even be for more than a day. They say this storm could keep going for a while.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You mean we’re stuck here for at </span>
  <em>
    <span>least</span>
  </em>
  <span> a whole other day and </span>
  <em>
    <span>won’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> make it into work tomorrow?” Eddie said in a mocking sad tone. “I’m devastated, Stanley, what about that stack of boring ass reports waiting on my desk?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about my boring ass spreadsheets?” added Stan, getting into the spirit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about my absolutely nothing I have going on, because time is an illusion for me?” Richie spoke up jovially. Everyone laughed, and Eddie noticed for the first time that he’d been spending the entire conversation mindlessly twisting the fabric from the back of Richie’s T-shirt between his fingers, something he hadn’t done since high school. He yanked his hand back awkwardly, but not before Richie noticed and raised an eyebrow at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Eddie murmured.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” asked Stan, whom Eddie had nearly forgotten was still on the phone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing,” he said, clearing his throat and blushing as Richie reached over to lightly ruffle his hair with a teasing smile. Stan’s voice continued to come through from the other end of the line, but Eddie was barely listening anymore. That would have involved taking some of his brain power away from the vision of Richie casually leaning against the glass doors, his glasses resting slightly crooked on his nose as he stared out at the snowy abyss with a thoughtful look on his face, the early morning light shining on him like a halo for the brief moments it could manage to peek through.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” the other man said once Eddie had finally hung up the phone. “Guess this means you’re stuck with me for another night, huh.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s not so bad,” replied Eddie, tossing his phone onto the nearby table and giving Richie a reassuring smile. “Hey, at least we have a whole bed. Remember that overnight camping trip we all took in middle school? When we had to share my sleeping bag because you spilled Tab all over yours?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How could I forget?” said Richie. “You farted on me in your sleep.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What??</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Eddie exclaimed indignantly. “I did not, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> were the one farting all night just to be an asshole, and one of them was so loud that Bill started giggling and couldn’t stop.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, and Stan said he was disowning all of us. That was some of my best work,” Richie admitted fondly. “But the fact remains, you didn’t go the whole night being innocently fartless, Spaghetti.”</span>
</p>
<p>“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Eddie muttered, batting him lightly on the arm as he felt his knees growing betrayingly weak at the smug smile Richie was giving him. “So what’s our plan for today?”</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie stopped smiling and blinked at him. “Our… plan?”</span>
</p>
<p>“Yeah, we got at least an extra day of the weekend,” Eddie said, looking out at the falling snow as he spoke. “What are we gonna do with it?”</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t you want to finally sit down and read your book by the fire in peace?” asked Richie. “Cause you can, if you want. I know that’s what you originally wanted and I’ve been distracting you from it the whole weekend.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah,” said Eddie dismissively. “Honestly, I can read any time, but there’s… I mean, I don’t exactly get a lot of opportunities to hang out with…” He cleared his throat awkwardly and looked down at his feet so he wouldn’t have to focus on Richie staring at him curiously. “Look, I’ve really missed you and I’ve sort of been really enjoying spending this time together, ok?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?” Richie sounded as if this were genuinely brand new information to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, yeah, shithead,” said Eddie, glancing over at him with a small smile. “It’s felt kind of like old times this weekend, hasn’t it? Like it used to be before…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Before?” Richie’s face was a carefully guarded blank slate as he waited for Eddie to finish his sentence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, before… before high school got all complicated and full of pressure and we were so busy trying to become grownups that we just kind of… drifted apart,” Eddie mused, swallowing a lump back down into his throat. He knew damn well that “drifting apart” wasn’t all it was, at least not for him. Drifting apart was a nice way of saying </span>
  <em>
    <span>You triggered my first gay panic and I kept my distance afterward because of it, and I think you probably thought I was mad at you or something, and it wasn’t even your fault because that kiss was MY idea...God, I was such a stupid asshole…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luckily, Richie’s only response was an understanding nod and a quiet “Yeah…” as he gazed outside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anyway, I don’t know about you, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ve </span>
  </em>
  <span>been having fun,” Eddie continued brightly. “So throw it at me. We have the whole day, the world is our oyster. You know, as long as that oyster is contained within the immediate premises.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie’s face broke into a warm, excited smile. “Well, you know what </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>think would be fun?” he asked mischievously. </span>
</p>
<p>“If a joke about my mom is about to come out of your mouth, I’m revoking everything I just said,” Eddie warned him. </p>
<p>
  <span>Richie gave him an exaggerated wounded look. “Do you really have that little faith in me, Spaghetti?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kinda, yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow, ok, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ouch</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look me in the eye right now and tell me you </span>
  <em>
    <span>weren’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>about to make a mom joke,” Eddie challenged him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a beat of silence. “Ok, fine, you know what </span>
  <em>
    <span>else</span>
  </em>
  <span> I think would be fun?” Richie finally shot back with. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I KNEW IT!” Eddie screeched. “I know you better than you know yourself, Richard.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You wanna hear my idea or not?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, ok. What’s your idea?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie looked thoughtfully out at the snow. “We could go outside and play in it,” he said, gesturing vaguely. “Like old times.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In the middle of a nor’easter?” Eddie asked dubiously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> bad out,” Richie protested. “We’re not driving or operating heavy machinery, we’d just be outside building snowmen or whatever. Remember when we used to have contests when we were kids?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie smiled. “Yeah. And we’d make Georgie be the judge after we were finished.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And that little kiss-ass weasel picked Bill’s snowman every goddamn time,” added Richie with an eye roll. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, we probably could have gotten a more impartial judge, so that was mostly our own fault,” Eddie pointed out sensibly. </span>
</p>
<p>“I guess. So what do you say?” Richie prodded him, looking so hopeful that Eddie felt his heart fluttering inside his chest at the sight. </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well… I mean, I guess we’d be safe enough if we just stuck to the backyard area,” he mused out loud. “Away from anything that could come flying at us in this wind.”</span>
</p>
<p>“Like I’d ever suggest anything that wouldn’t be safe?” Richie said indignantly. </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, not to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> guy, but there was that time in sixth grade when-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, for like the thousandth time, I did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> think that swinging from a shower curtain rod for literally a second would cause that much damage,” Richie interrupted him. “Besides, the scar on my chin is barely noticeable anymore, especially when I let my facial hair grow in a little.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie somehow barely managed to suppress his sudden extreme curiosity over how good Richie might look with a decent growth of stubble. “Alright already, you’ve made your point.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So are we going out to play in the snow?” Richie asked excitedly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, yes,” Eddie agreed with a smile. “Let me just shower and stuff first.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sweet,” said Richie happily, wrapping one arm around Eddie’s shoulder in a casual side hug that made Eddie’s stomach flip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A little over an hour later, they had both showered and dressed, grabbed quick bowls of cereal from the kitchen, and were stepping carefully out into the ongoing storm. Snowflakes blew in their faces as they trudged around the back of the lodge, where a small swing set and a brightly colored plastic jungle gym were strategically placed among what was otherwise a large expanse of yard. A yard that was, at the moment, almost completely blanketed with undisturbed, fluffy whiteness. The snow completely engulfed their feet as they sank into it with each step, and Eddie wondered, as his own feet inside his boots began to feel like ice blocks after a few moments, how the fuck Richie could stand walking around in just a pair of Converse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aren’t you freezing?” he asked him as he caught up with the other man in front of a snow-covered purple slide. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I told you before, Spaghedward, I’m warm blooded,” said Richie, his gloved hands in the pockets of his hoodie as his breath came out in visible frozen puffs. “The last guy I dated used to call me Heat Lamp.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie frowned before he could help himself. “Yeah, I bet he did,” he muttered quietly from beneath the thick scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?” asked Richie.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing,” said Eddie in a clearer voice. His eyes wandered over to the swing set, and he briefly entertained the idea of suggesting that they use it. He squashed that thought down as quickly as it appeared, however. He didn’t think he was quite ready for the conversation that had the potential to dredge up. “I said you’d better get to work if you think you’re gonna make a better snowman than me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie’s eyes shone with amusement. “Is that a challenge, Edward?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Friendly competition,” Eddie clarified as he bent down and began forming a snowball in his hands. “Unless you’re chicken.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please,” scoffed Richie, raising his eyebrows as he grabbed a handful of snow and began shaping it. “I’m not scared of you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bring it, then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will.”</span>
</p>
<p>“Great.”</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Great.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They both set to work, Eddie smiling to himself as he carefully shaped his snow into a rough likeness of Snarf from his favorite childhood cartoon, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Thundercats</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He’d secretly always loved challenges of all sorts, and so he had never been one to go for a boring, basic snowman. Of course, the snow being so fresh was proving to make it a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> much of a challenge, but he did his best to carefully shape the base and then stepped back to examine his work. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm,” he murmured critically. He bent down and used a gloved hand to dig past all the fresh snowfall, hoping to hit some of the older snow beneath that would be more easily moldable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did we lose something, Spaghetti?” asked Richie teasingly as he added a handful of snow to his own creation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, any doubts I might have had about winning this little contest,” replied Eddie dryly as he looked over at Richie’s work, which was admittedly further along than his own. It was at least shaped like… something. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“With what, those little lumpy potatoes?” said Richie, casting a withering glance over at Eddie’s creation as he shaped a large snowball between his hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Those are feet, you dorkus. I’m making Snarf,” Eddie replied hotly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Poor Snarfy looks a little different than I remember,” Richie cracked as Eddie rolled his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yeah, well what the fuck is yours supposed to be?” he asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can’t tell?” said Richie as he carefully placed the snowball on top of his creation’s body. “Damn, I gave him a fanny pack and everything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie narrowed his eyes. “Is that… is that supposed to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>me????</span>
  </em>
  <span>” The snowman was small and hopelessly lumpy, but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>could </span>
  </em>
  <span>sort of see the shape of a person, and now that Richie had mentioned it, the rough shape of a fanny pack at around where the figure’s waist must have been. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ding ding!” exclaimed Richie proudly. “Isn’t he cute? I call him Eddie KaspBRRRRak. Get it, cause he’s made of snow?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie slapped one of his wet palms over his own face as he swallowed down the urge to laugh. “Oh my god, you are so lame.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re so lame, Richie!” Richie exclaimed in a high pitched voice as he crouched behind Snow Eddie, using his own arms to make it look as though the figure had its hands on its hips. “That’s not safe, Richie! Haven’t you ever heard of a staph infection, Richie? Opened parmesan cheese goes in the fridge, Richie!” He punctuated that last sentence by sassily wagging the index finger of one hand, and Eddie could no longer hold back the giggle that involuntarily erupted from him at the sight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>sound like that!” he protested indignantly, even as he tried to hide a snort. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, my bad,” said Richie as he peeked around the snowman’s head. “It’s more like….</span>
  <em>
    <span>I do NOT sound like that, Richie!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, you know what, that’s it,” said Eddie, reaching down and grabbing a handful of fresh snow, which he hastily fashioned into a crumbly, ill-shaped ball and tossed in Richie’s direction. It landed in the vicinity of the other man’s chest and lazily bounced off of him, falling back to the ground with an unceremonious fizzle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did… did you just fire the first shot?” asked Richie, a mischievous grin beginning to appear on his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe,” replied Eddie with a saucy raising of his eyebrows. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cause if you did, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> realize that this means I have no choice but to fire right back at you, right?” Richie continued, forming a snowball of his own as he spoke. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Give it your best shot, chucklefuck.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Brave words coming from someone about to be completely decimated,” declared Richie, narrowing his eyes in concentration and firing the snowball with incredible aim. It hit Eddie in the torso before splitting apart, leaving tiny bits of snow crystals on the front of his jacket. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“WAAAARRRRR!” Eddie shouted gleefully, his snow Snarf forgotten as he set to work forming an arsenal of snowballs to use as ammunition. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re gonna be so sorry, Spaghetti!” Richie called out delightedly, firing another snowball that hit Eddie in the back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kiss my ass!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, that’s what your mom always s- OH SHIT!” Richie exclaimed, ducking just in time to narrowly miss a snowball landing on his chin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were saying?” Eddie taunted him. They stood facing each other, each holding a snowball in one hand as they ruthlessly stared one another down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where you planning to aim that one?” Richie asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At your balls,” answered Eddie without hesitation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You wouldn’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All’s fair in love and war, Ricardo.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll have to catch me first!” Richie tossed his snowball at Eddie and ran. Eddie let out a surprised yell and went after him, chasing him in circles around the yard as they both tossed handfuls of loose snow at each other in the process. Richie took the opportunity while Eddie was busy forming another ball to climb onto the jungle gym and stand atop the plastic slide, where he looked down at Eddie with a triumphant grin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jungle gym is safe, you can’t get me up here,” he declared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nuh-uh,” Eddie argued. “You have to declare what’s safe </span>
  <em>
    <span>before </span>
  </em>
  <span>the fight starts.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Says who?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Says everybody,” said Eddie with a roll of his eyes. “That’s like, the very first rule.” He cast a glance at Richie’s feet, which were perched precariously on the top of the wet, snow-covered slide. “Can… can you get down from there?” he asked nervously. “That doesn’t look safe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You worry too much, Eds,” said Richie. “It’s fine, it’s not even that high u-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t finish his sentence, because a panicked yell took the place of words as Richie suddenly lost his footing and tumbled right off the slide, grabbing fruitlessly at the sides of the gym on his way down. He landed in a heap at the base of it with a sickening thud and groaned in pain before collapsing onto his back into the snow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“RICHIE!” Eddie rushed over to him immediately, his heart pounding in a blind panic as he got down on his knees and leaned over his friend. “Richie, oh god… are you ok???”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ooooww,” Richie groaned, wincing as Eddie looked down at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Richie,” Eddie said worriedly, gently placing his hands on either side of Richie’s face as he looked him over and brushed falling snow away with his thumbs. “I fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>told</span>
  </em>
  <span> you this wasn’t safe! Did you hit your head? Say something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie closed his eyes for a moment before fixing them on Eddie’s and taking a shallow breath. “I fucked your mom?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie rolled his eyes. “There he is,” he said witheringly as he fished his inhaler out of his coat pocket and took a much needed puff. “Ok, talk to me. What hurts?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh… my back,” Richie replied with a pained look. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok,” Eddie said softly. “Anything else?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know… my arm? I… I think I cut it. Definitely feels like I cut it,” said Richie, holding his right arm up weakly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, well first let’s get you inside so I can look you over,” Eddie declared. “Can you get up?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie tried, his eyes widening in pain as he barely managed to get himself into a sitting position. “Sort of?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Give me your hands,” Eddie ordered him. Richie obeyed, holding his hands out and allowing Eddie to grab onto them. Carefully, Eddie pulled him up until he was standing, before gingerly wrapping one arm around the other man’s waist. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ow,” Richie winced. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Eddie said gently, easing his grip on Richie just a little. “Here, put your arm around my shoulder, ok?... Good,” he said as Richie followed his instructions. “Can you walk?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, let’s get you inside,” Eddie directed him reassuringly as he carefully helped him walk back across the yard and toward the side door of the lodge. They entered through the almost empty kitchen and were greeted by a surprised looking Stan and Patty drinking coffee at one of the small wooden tables. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jesus, what happened to you?” Stan asked curiously as he took a sip from his mug. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eddie tried to kill me, call the police,” Richie quipped. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie rolled his eyes in exasperation. “He climbed onto the jungle gym outside and fell off.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, shit. Are you ok?” asked Patty, frowning with concern. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I’ll be fine,” Richie assured her. “Dr. K is gonna fix me up right as rain, ain’t that right, my good sir?” he added in an exaggerated British accent, fixing Eddie with a wide, cheesy grin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you’re lucky,” Eddie retorted. “Alright, cowboy, let's get you into the bathroom. I know there’s a first aid kit in there somewhere.” He carefully led Richie to the small restroom off of the kitchen, passing by a surprised looking Brenda on the way, and ushered him inside, closing the door behind them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have a seat,” he invited him, gesturing grandly at the closed toilet with a smile. Richie sat, watching with interested eyes as Eddie washed his hands and rooted around in the cupboard above the sink for the first aid kit. He quickly found it and settled himself on his knees in front of Richie, taking his friend’s gloves off and shoving them into his own jacket pocket.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok,” he said, opening up the kit. “You said your arm hurt, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me see.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie slowly unzipped his hoodie and removed one arm from its sleeve, holding it out for Eddie to examine. As it turned out, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> suffered a decent sized scrape into the skin of his forearm, which was bleeding slightly but didn’t look as bad as Eddie might have expected. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, that’ll be easy,” he said with relief, digging out an alcohol wipe, a tube of antibiotic ointment, and a jumbo sized bandage from the kit and setting the plastic box onto the sink. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Get in there, Dr. K,” Richie said, breaking out the British accent once more as Eddie opened the wipe and began to dab at the torn skin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you seriously doing the British guy with me right now?” Eddie asked with a raise of his eyebrow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You always loved the British guy,” Richie protested, wincing as the alcohol made contact with his cut. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>tolerated</span>
  </em>
  <span> the British guy,” Eddie corrected him warmly, making eye contact with him as he squeezed a dollop of ointment onto a cotton ball and gently patted it onto Richie’s freshly cleaned wound. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah, you loved it. You always ended up laughing,” Richie prodded. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did not.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, maybe like </span>
  <em>
    <span>once</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Eddie conceded with an eye roll, even though he felt the corners of his lips beginning to curl up into an involuntary smile, which caused Richie’s dark ocean eyes to dance with glee as he watched him work. With as much care as possible, Eddie removed the bandage from its wrapper and placed it on top of Richie’s cut, sealing it into place as he tossed the wrappings into the garbage. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There,” he said proudly, giving Richie a proud pat on the hand as he admired his own work. “You’re as good as new.” His hand stayed where it was for a brief moment as his eyes traveled down, his breath catching ever so slightly in his throat as he took in just how much their sizes differed. Richie’s hand made his own look so small in comparison that it sent an unexpected shiver down Eddie’s spine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ok, can you like, not? The poor man is injured, for fuck’s sake. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, Spaghetti,” said Richie with a smile as their hands finally parted and he slipped his arm back into his sleeve. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Any time,” replied Eddie, patting him on the knee as he stood back up. “How’s your back?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Still sore,” answered Richie as he stood up from the toilet and gingerly tried to move his torso. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie frowned. “Maybe you should go upstairs and lay down for awhile. If… if you want, I could raid the kitchen and bring up a bunch of snacks and maybe we could just stay in the room and watch movies today.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure where this suggestion had come from, and to be honest, he wasn’t sure whether he was suggesting it more for Richie’s well-being or for himself. Regardless, there was suddenly nothing more he’d rather do with their stolen time. The idea of having a cozy movie marathon with Richie for the rest of the day sounded more and more appealing with every word that left his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cause, I mean,” he continued, “you could also lay on the sofa in the common room, but then everyone would be bugging you all day, and-“</span>
</p>
<p>“Movies in bed sounds great to me,” Richie interrupted him with an amused grin, which Eddie happily returned as they stood there just looking at each other for several beats. </p>
<p>
  <span>“Great,” Eddie said at last, putting the first aid kit back in its proper place and opening the door to the bathroom to let Richie out. “Can you climb the stairs?” he asked worriedly as he watched the other man limp to the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah, don’t worry about that,” Richie assured him with a dismissive wave as he readjusted his glasses. “I’m a strong independent dude who don’t need a man.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie let out a small giggle. “Ok, get your ass upstairs and make yourself comfy, and I’ll be up in a few minutes,” he said, his hand resting protectively on Richie’s back as they left the restroom and turned toward the stairs. He watched nervously as Richie climbed them, waiting until the other man was completely out of his sight, and then he made his way back into the kitchen, where Stan and Patty were still casually sipping their coffee and Brenda was standing at the counter toasting a piece of bread.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’s the patient?” Patty asked as Eddie set about opening cupboards to weigh his options. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He hurt his back a little, so he’s going up to rest,” replied Eddie, grabbing a gallon sized ziplock bag from a drawer and beginning to fill it with odds and ends from the snack center. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All by himself?” spoke up Brenda with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>tsk</span>
  </em>
  <span> as she popped her bread out of the toaster, the sound of her voice causing Eddie to inwardly cringe as though it were nails on a chalkboard. “That’s such a shame, he should go lay on one of the sofas down here, at least there’d be people around to-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure he’ll be perfectly fine watching movies with me in our bed,” Eddie interrupted her in an exaggeratedly sweet tone as he put just the smallest bit of emphasis on the </span>
  <em>
    <span>our</span>
  </em>
  <span>, only realizing that he’d done it when he saw Stan and Patty exchange a surprised look over their coffee cups in his peripheral vision.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,” Brenda said with an awkward clear of her throat. “It was only a suggestion.” She took her toast and hurried out of the room, leaving Eddie to face the highly amused looking Urises.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow,” said Stan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” asked Eddie, even though he suspected that he knew perfectly well what. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing, nothing,” replied Stan casually, smiling as he took a sip of coffee. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not a thing,” added Patty with a grin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What??</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Eddie exclaimed irritably. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing,” Patty repeated emphatically.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Eddie, maybe you should pee on Richie too, just to make absolutely sure your territory is properly marked,” said Stan in a voice cracking with barely disguised laughter, which caused Patty to follow suit and snort down into her mug. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie could feel his face turning red all the way to the roots of his hair. “Oh, you guys are </span>
  <em>
    <span>asses</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he grumbled with crossed arms as husband and wife practically shook with giggles across from him. “First of all, that’s disgusting. Also, you have no idea what you’re talking about, I’m only being protective because that woman is practically throwing herself at him all the time, and…” He trailed off when it became abundantly clear that his words were only making his friends laugh even harder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuuuck youuuu,” he said with a roll of his eyes as Stan and Patty practically turned purple. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My apologies,” said Stan after they’d managed to calm down. “Would a good old fashioned hickey be more hygienic?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m going now,” Eddie muttered as Patty reached over the table to give her husband a high five. He finished filling his bag, grabbed some cans of soda that he shoved into his jacket’s numerous pockets, and bolted out of the kitchen, practically bounding up the stairs two at a time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stupid Stan,” he muttered quietly to himself as he made his way up toward the third floor. “He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s not wrong, though, is he?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut the fuck up,” he told himself as he arrived on the landing and headed toward his and Richie’s bedroom door, which was left slightly ajar enough for him to easily breeze through it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I come bearing snacks,” he announced brightly, holding up his bag of treasures as he shut the door behind him with his hip. Richie was already back in his sleep clothes and in bed, sitting up under the covers with the television remote in one hand. He cast an excited look over at Eddie as he watched him cross the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my god, you grabbed those chocolate granola bars I like,” he said happily, smiling widely as he took in the sight of the full snack bag. “I love you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie blushed and cleared his throat. “Yeah, I saw how you inhaled a ton of them yesterday after dinner, so I just stole the entire rest of the stash.” He handed the bag over to Richie, placed the soda cans on the nightstand, and set about changing his clothes, noticing out of the corner of his eye that the other man was trying his best not to look as he did so. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, here’s the lowdown,” Richie said once Eddie was finished changing and had carefully climbed into bed beside him. “This place gets HBO </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>Showtime, in which case our current choices are </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Chronicles of Narnia </span>
  </em>
  <span>or </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Stepford Wives</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Or, if you don’t mind commercials, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Independence Day </span>
  </em>
  <span>is on TBS and it has your old-ass husband in it,” he added teasingly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie screwed up his face in exaggerated thought. “Weeeellll, I mean, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> be a good husband and support my honey’s work, buuuut I also really hate movies where nothing happens except that things blow up, so why don’t we settle on </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Stepford Wives</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he said, scooting close to Richie and retrieving a mini bag of Doritos out of their stash. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re the boss, Spaghetti,” said Richie, turning the TV to the correct channel and settling down onto his nest of pillows with a granola bar. They watched contentedly for a while, occasionally laughing at a scene or pointing out how another made no sense, and Eddie felt, overwhelmingly, as though no time had passed at all. He couldn’t remember the </span>
  <em>
    <span>exact </span>
  </em>
  <span>last time he had been sitting watching TV like this in Bill’s basement, his head resting casually on Richie’s shoulder as they shared an unholy amount of junk food between them, but it might as well have been just yesterday based on how natural and right it felt. He might not have been able to recount any relevant plot points of the movie, or the several they watched after that, but he probably </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> have told anyone who asked (not that it would be any of their business, thank you very much) that Richie smelled like berries, that the fabric of his T-shirt felt feather soft under Eddie’s cheek, that the sound of the other man’s voice so close to his ear was as soothing as a thousand warm hugs, and that leaving this comfortable position at all, even for the brief time it took to use the bathroom or go to retrieve more food, felt like torture. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Eds,” said Richie, tapping Eddie on the shoulder halfway through </span>
  <em>
    <span>Van Helsing</span>
  </em>
  <span> as the grey daylight outside their windows gave way to another night of darkness and relentless snowfall. “Eds, look at me, look.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie glanced up at him and let out a surprised snort. Richie had taken two Bugles out of the tiny bag he’d been eating from and stuck them into either side of his mouth like fangs. “Look at me, I’m a vampire,” the other man said, looking extremely proud of himself when Eddie let out a genuine laugh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are such a dork,” said Eddie, giggling as one of the Bugles fell off and left Richie with only one fang for a brief second before he hastily replaced it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eeeedddiieee,” Richie intoned in an overly embellished impression of Bela Legosi, sitting up straighter and leaning into Eddie, who let out an undignified squeak as he suddenly lost his position on the other man’s shoulder he’d been using as a pillow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Richie, what the fuck,” he said with a laugh as Richie spread his arms out like bat wings. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Edvard, I vant to fuck your mooooom,” he continued.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How about you go fuck </span>
  <em>
    <span>yourself</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Eddie retorted with an eye roll, even as he hid a smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No need to be jealous, Spaghedvard, first I’ll suck your bloooood,” said Richie, leaning in close and pretending to bite Eddie on the neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my god, quit it!” Eddie squealed with a laugh as he made to push Richie off of him. Unfortunately, he misjudged his movement and ended up causing the other man to slip and land almost right on top of him instead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit, sorry,” said Richie in his regular voice, sounding embarrassed. He started to move away, and Eddie didn’t know what came over him at that moment, but without meaning to, he found himself gripping Richie gently by the arm to stop him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t…” he began to say, not at all knowing how he wanted to finish that sentence. Richie stared down at him, his blue eyes wide with curiosity and apprehension as they just stared at one another for a moment that felt more like a hundred years, the movie long since forgotten.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eds?” Richie asked cautiously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie opened his mouth and then closed it, knowing he should say something, but unsure </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>. There were so many things he would have liked to say in those endless seconds, but he couldn’t bring himself to say any of them. All he could really focus on was how Richie was half on top of him, his weight pressing into him just enough to make Eddie’s heart start beating like a drum as his eyes zeroed in on the man’s lips that were </span>
  <em>
    <span>right there, oh my god…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next few seconds were a blur. It honestly felt like some other force stronger than himself had taken over Eddie’s body, because the very next thing he knew, he was leaning up in order to close the gap between Richie’s lips and his own. His heart was beating so fast inside of his chest as their lips finally met that he legitimately thought he might pass out. That feeling was quickly pushed aside after the kiss was over and he was looking back into Richie’s eyes, which had blown so black that any trace of blue was nowhere to be found anymore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was an awkward moment of silence, during which all Eddie could manage to think was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey, the Bugles disappeared</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He thought they might just lay there staring into each other’s eyes forever, but finally Richie seemed to get somewhat of a grip on himself and open his mouth to speak. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eddie, what… what the fuck…” he said quietly, his tongue darting out to lick his own bottom lip, as if he were trying to still taste where Eddie’s had just been. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie instantly felt more embarrassed than he’d ever felt in his life. “Oh god… I’m so sorry,” he apologized emphatically, his voice shaking and his cheeks flaming as he brought a hand up to cover his face so he wouldn’t have to look at Richie. “I’m… fuck, I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>so sorry</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I shouldn’t have done that, I… I shouldn’t…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eddie…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, really, it’s my fault, I don’t know what came over me,” Eddie babbled, adrenaline causing his entire body to start trembling as Richie just kept looking down at him. “I just… this whole weekend I’ve been feeling.. I… I’m sorry…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Eddie</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Richie said his name slightly louder and gave him a long, serious stare as Eddie managed to stop ranting and look back into his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Y..yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie’s lips curled into the tiniest of smiles as his eyes shone brightly, reflecting the light from the nearby lamp. “Please shut up,” he said, hesitating only for a second or two before leaning down to catch Eddie’s lips in another kiss, this one lasting twice as long and giving Eddie twice the sensation that he was about to stop breathing as everything in him screamed with excitement. He allowed himself to bring one hand up to cup the side of Richie’s face, his fingers brushing softly over the slightly stubbly skin and trailing down to land just above the other man’s collarbone as Richie parted from the kiss and gave him a searching look. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eds?” he said quietly, his voice cracking even over just the one syllable. Eddie could feel Richie’s heart pounding through the thin T-shirt fabric beneath his fingertips as he looked up at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Richie?”</span>
</p>
<p>Richie closed his eyes for a moment. “What are we doing?” He was clearly trying to sound logical, but the eager hope in his eyes when he opened them again almost made Eddie’s insides melt into a puddle right then and there. </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” he answered him after a beat of silence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”O….kay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But…” Eddie continued, biting his own lip as his gaze zeroed back in on Richie’s before traveling back up to the anticipating blue eyes. “I… I really don’t want to stop.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The look on Richie’s face could only be accurately compared to someone who’d just been given a million puppies for Christmas. “You don’t?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie smiled and shook his head as he reached up to brush a lock of hair out of Richie’s eyes. “No. Do you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Time stopped for a second, the only sound in the room coming from the forgotten TV as they just looked at each other in awe and wonder. Then, suddenly, it felt as if a switch had been flipped. They surged toward each other, their lips meeting like two puzzle pieces finally finding each other’s perfect match. Hands and limbs flew everywhere as they tried to find their groove, and Richie exclaimed in surprise when Eddie accidentally bit him on the lip in all the commotion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry!” Eddie apologized profusely, tenderly brushing his fingertips over the wounded skin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie gave him a cheesy grin as he licked his bottom lip. “Don’t be,” he assured him, leaning back into the kiss as they rolled around on the bed, the sheets already becoming a hopelessly tangled mess that Eddie couldn’t even muster the energy to care about at the moment. They ended up with Richie half sitting up against the disarrayed pillows as Eddie eagerly climbed on top of him, straddling him on either side and gently holding the other man’s face in his hands as he passionately kissed him like his life depended on it. Someone accidentally hit the remote in the process, causing the television to turn off, and Eddie said a silent prayer of thanks for this as the newfound silence in the room allowed him to perfectly hear every excited gasp and moan from Richie. The noise was intoxicating, and he wondered how the fuck he’d managed to live for his entire life without it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We… we should… we should probably talk about this,” Richie pointed out in between desperate kisses. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmm,” Eddie murmured in agreement as he allowed his lips to wander over to Richie’s jawline and start exploring. “We should.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You want to?” Richie asked breathlessly as he tilted his head up to allow Eddie easier access. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not really,” Eddie admitted, going back to his lips as his hands trailed down to Richie’s chest, where he could feel the other man’s heart threatening to burst between them. “Do you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“N...no…” Richie answered him shakily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’s your back?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie laughed. “Honestly, it feels a lot better. I forgot all about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good, that’s so good,” Eddie murmured approvingly against him. They kissed again, hungry and deep, and he felt a jolt of electricity shoot through his body when the tip of Richie’s tongue briefly made its way into his mouth. Fire burned inside of him when he felt long, warm fingers trailing softy, almost reverently, down his back and stopping to idle at the hem of his shirt before slipping inside to cautiously ghost over his skin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jesus, you’re so soft,” Richie breathed out, sounding absolutely awestruck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie let out an amused laugh. “I fucking hope so, I moisturize all over every day.”</span>
</p>
<p>“You’re doing great,” Richie quipped as his hands gripped Eddie around the waist beneath his shirt. </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks,” replied Eddie, pausing to reach down and yank his own shirt off, throwing it down beside the bed before he could talk himself out of it. Richie’s eyes grew as wide as saucers as he began to take in this new and clearly welcome sight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How the fuck,” he whispered, his eyes dark as coal as he hesitantly reached out to brush a hand over Eddie’s abs. “Are you sure you’re real?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie snorted. “You’re exaggerating. It’s just a few days a week at the gym with Stan starting to pay off. He has better abs than me, by the way. Like… immaculate. I hate him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie shook his head and grinned. “No offense, but I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about Stan’s abs. These are perfect,” he declared, tracing over Eddie’s stomach with his fingertips while Eddie himself found his gaze wandering down to Richie’s torso, which was still frustratingly covered by that stupid Krusty the Clown T-shirt. His frustration must have shown on his face, because Richie seemed to get the hint immediately and hastily pulled it off, briefly getting his head stuck before he finally broke free with a grunt and tossed the offending shirt aside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, Jesus</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Eddie thought as he drank in the sight of Richie’s uncovered body. He’d seen it before at the start of their trip, of course, but something about it being this close to him, and more importantly, something about having permission to touch it…. he couldn’t explain why it was different, it just was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, speaking of surprisingly hot bodies,” he said teasingly as he grazed his fingers over Richie’s warm skin. “Where did </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> come from?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie grinned. “You like it? I exercise sometimes now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie laughed and leaned back into a soft, tender kiss, biting back a moan against his lips when Richie suddenly sat up straighter and held onto him by the waist as Eddie wrapped his legs around him for leverage. All the blood in his body suddenly started traveling south, and for the first time he could definitely tell, judging by the ever growing hard bulge underneath him, that he wasn’t the only one. He did his best to ignore it and keep himself in the moment, not wanting to escalate things so far so fast in case Richie wasn’t ready, but a well-timed accidental movement from both of them slotted their legs together in just the right way and made their situation impossible to brush aside. </span>
</p>
<p>“Um…” Eddie murmured, breaking from their kiss to look down between their bodies and then back up at Richie in embarrassment. </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, um… sorry?” Richie offered sheepishly, adjusting his glasses as his face flushed red. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie swallowed and chanced another glance south. Richie’s pajama pants were pretty loose to begin with, but they clearly weren’t loose enough to be any sort of match for what was desperately pushing up against the fabric at the moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow,” Eddie said in quiet awe. He licked his lips and reached a hand out, wanting so badly to touch it </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> to see if it was real, but he wasn’t sure if he should. He settled for deepening their kiss as they rocked together, each slide of friction threatening to bring their adventure together closer and closer to a disappointingly fast ending, until Eddie finally managed to get a hold of his senses and gently pushed on Richie’s chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop,” he said, and Richie did, looking into his face with a despairing frown. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you ok?” the other man asked him, looking so concerned that Eddie came close to just pulling him into a hug and covering him with reassuring kisses. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No, not right now. Maybe after…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Jesus, Eddie, presumptuous much?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” Eddie assured him, trying to catch his breath and focus, even though the adorable earnestness on Richie’s face and the throbbing between his own legs was making that extremely difficult at the moment. “I just… I don’t…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie looked sad. “Do you want to stop?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No!” Eddie exclaimed, a lot louder and more insistently than he had intended. “God, no!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Eddie repeated with a giggle. “No, I… I just… this isn’t… I don’t want to finish like, well.. </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he said, vaguely gesturing between their bodies and praying to God that Richie would get what he was trying to say without him actually having to say it. The entire evening already felt like enough of a fever dream without having to feel awkward on top of it. “I want… I mean, only if you… we don’t have to, but..”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie looked confused for only a moment, his eyes widening with recognition when Eddie’s fingers traveled down to dance cautiously around the waistband of his pants. “Holy shitballs, you want… you want to… </span>
  <em>
    <span>really???</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, not if you’re gonna say shit like </span>
  <em>
    <span>holy shitballs</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Eddie replied with an eye roll. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry. Holy fucknuts,” Richie corrected himself, still looking shocked as his hands shook around Eddie’s waist. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only if you want to,” Eddie emphasized. Honestly, at this point he wasn’t quite sure how he would take the disappointment if Richie said no, but he tried not to entertain that idea until he knew for certain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie was very quiet for a few long, awkward seconds. “Look, Eds, I.. I want to, I really </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> do, you have no idea, but.. are you sure? It’s so fast. I mean.. I mean… thirty minutes ago we were watching TV and eating chips, and now.. well.. </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie looked earnestly into the apprehensive blue eyes. “Tell me you don’t want to and we’ll stop,” he said, his heart thudding right in his ears as he waited anxiously for Richie’s answer. Even so, the silence in the room was almost deafening.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie hesitated, and Eddie mentally prepared himself for death by humiliation. He could feel the tears starting to well up, even, but before they could fall, he found himself suddenly being grabbed and rolled onto his back as Richie’s bulky weight pinned him deliciously down into the mattress. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re sure, right?” Richie asked shakily. Eddie replied by pulling him down into a heated, messy kiss that made his whole body feel like exploding fireworks. Hands flew everywhere with wild abandon as the rest of their clothes were shed, and Eddie found himself practically gaping in shock when he finally saw, well… </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> of Richie.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” asked Richie, glancing down at himself in puzzlement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The fuck do you mean, what?” Eddie exclaimed. “That thing is dangerously huge, I didn’t think they even came in that size!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, trust me, Eds, this thing </span>
  <em>
    <span>comes</span>
  </em>
  <span> in a lot of sizes, if you get my drift,” Richie joked. “Besides, I believe I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> tell you it was big even back in the day. I told all of you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought you were just joking and being an asshole!” replied Eddie, still unable to take his eyes off of it, even as he wondered, with a fresh rush of blood to his own groin, what it would feel like inside of him. “I didn’t think you were serious!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Serious as a heart attack, Spaghedward,” Richie quipped. “So, uh… I hate to interrupt your enjoyment of this perfectly sculpted classic art piece, but um… we kinda have a problem.”</span>
</p>
<p>Eddie blinked, just barely managing to scrape his eyes away from Richie’s dick in order to look him in the eye. “What?”</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, last time I checked, sex required things like, I don’t know, condoms. And more importantly, lube. A lot of it,” Richie pointed out. Eddie almost wailed with frustration until he suddenly remembered something that solved both problems. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t think Stan and Patty will notice if we borrow their lube from the bathroom, do you?” he asked. Richie looked disgusted at first, but that quickly turned into consideration as he looked over in the direction of the bedroom door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean.. that thing </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> the size of a fucking oil drum,” the other man mused, bringing a finger under his chin thoughtfully, the sight of which, combined with the fact that he was leaning on his knees completely naked with a raging erection, was so hilarious that Eddie had to bite back a loud laugh. “We could borrow it and put it back and maybe they’d never even know…. but what about a condom? I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> asking Stan to borrow one of those.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie blushed, embarrassed, as he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh, well.. I, uh.. I happen to have a few leftovers in one of my bags.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excuse me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? The last time I used my luggage, I was in a relationship,” said Eddie defensively. “I mean, they might be a little snug on you, but…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Richie raised his eyebrows, looking pleased as punch by these words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” said Eddie, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. “Most condoms would, I imagine, with that war tank you have between your legs. Now, go get the lube.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>ME??? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Why do </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>have to get it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, one of us has to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m naked!” Richie shrieked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So am I!” Eddie argued. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My dick is hard enough to shatter glass, what if someone sees me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And what the fuck is this, a pool noodle?” Eddie asked, gesturing to his own erect dick with two hands. “Just go get it, it will take two seconds!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s Rock, Paper, Scissors for it,” Richie said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I cannot believe I’m about to have sex with you,” muttered Eddie. “Ok, ok. Put your hand out.”</span>
</p>
<p>“Bring it on,” said Richie with a grin. </p>
<p>
  <span>“1...2...3… shoot!” Eddie called out, laughing heartily as he covered Richie’s rock with his paper. “You lose, go get the fuckin lube.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> lucky that you have a hot ass,” Richie grumbled, grabbing his pajama pants off the floor and haphazardly wrapping them around his waist like a towel as he hurried out of the room. He was back in less than a minute, shoving the door closed and tossing the gigantic container of lube onto the bed before climbing up next to it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, this lube looks brand new,” he said in surprise as Eddie retrieved a condom from the front pocket of his duffel bag. “I don’t think they’ve even used it yet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, if they notice, we deny everything, pray for forgiveness, and make it up to them at Thanksgiving,” said Eddie with a shrug as he climbed back into bed and settled himself down into the sheets, locking eyes with Richie as the jokes faded into the air and they were both starkly reminded of what they were about to do. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Last chance to change your mind,” Eddie said, biting his lip nervously as Richie crawled over and looked down at him with dark, hooded eyes. The other man immediately shook his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” he said quietly. “I still want to do it. You?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie nodded. “Yeah, me too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Unless you have any STDs you wanna warn me about,” Richie joked, clearly trying to lighten the mood as the gravity and excitement of the situation weighed down on them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie snorted. “Please. After I was cheated on I got myself tested six ways to fuckin’ Sunday. I’m as clean as all that snow outside.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie smiled. “And in the spirit of transparency, I haven’t been with anyone in like two years, so I solemnly swear I’m not about to give you warts.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re truly the kings of romance, aren’t we?” Eddie cracked, and the two of them shared an amused smile before bringing their lips together to once again join in that perfect way that felt as though they were destined for it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The room suddenly felt a hundred degrees hotter, despite the raging storm outside, as Richie’s lips slowly traveled down to Eddie’s jaw before settling on the sensitive skin of his neck, peppering it with soft kisses as he set to work preparing him. Eddie could have probably died just from that alone, his breath catching in his throat and the blood pulsating between his legs as Richie’s long fingers gently worked him open. By the time Richie was actually on top of him and carefully entering him, Eddie’s tiny whimpers had turned into loud, sinful moans and other sounds that he didn’t think he’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> made before. He’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>thought</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’d known what to expect; it wasn’t like he was a virgin, and sex was sex, after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sex with Richie wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> sex, though. He could feel that in every movement within him, every hot breath on his neck, every loud moan or quiet little whimper of Eddie’s name into his ear as Richie rocked into him, shaking the bed like a level five earthquake in the process. No, this wasn’t just sex at all. This was more akin to the natural, happy end to a very long, tiresome journey he hadn’t even known he’d been embarking on. It felt more than just right; it felt like destiny.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or like a second chance, he supposed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It simultaneously seemed to take forever and no time at all before he could feel himself approaching the edge of that inevitable cliff, and the slightest touch of a large, warm hand on him was all it took to push him right over. He let out a scream that he was sure probably shook the entire lodge as he dug his nails into Richie’s shoulders and rode it out. He whimpered as Richie sped up, moaned loudly into his ear, stilled, and finally buried his face in Eddie’s neck while he followed him over that edge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment they lay there together, still joined, their hearts beating in time with one another as they came down and looked into each other’s eyes. Richie looked absolutely wrecked, his eyes blown black behind his crooked, fogged up glasses, his lips cherry red and his breath coming out in short puffs that reminded Eddie of an asthma attack. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re shaking,” Eddie pointed out quietly, running his hands soothingly over Richie’s arms. The other man opened his mouth as if to reply, but either he changed his mind or he couldn’t find the words he was looking for. His only response was to lean down and press the softest, gentlest kiss to Eddie’s lips as he brought a hand up to cup his cheek. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can.. um…” he finally started to say as his trembling began to cease. He looked so vulnerable, and even nervous, that Eddie’s heart went out to him as he waited for him to finish his sentence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” he prodded him gently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you hold me?” Richie asked, almost in a whisper, like he was afraid of what the answer might be if he said it any louder than that. Eddie smiled and kissed him, gently stroking his arms as he nodded in agreement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s clean up first, though,” he said as he reached up to adjust Richie’s glasses for him. “Unless you want that shit to harden on your stomach.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What a coincidence, that’s what I always told your mom afterwards,” Richie quipped as Eddie banged his head back against the headboard in exasperation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are you the way that you are?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And yet look at you right now,” Richie pointed out saucily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, laugh it up, Trashmouth,” grumbled Eddie good naturedly as they set about cleaning themselves, which didn’t take much time since neither of them could be bothered to do more than the bare minimum. Before long they were turning the lamps off and crawling back beneath the covers, Eddie holding his arms out in invitation. Richie eagerly fell into them, his head resting ever so gently on Eddie’s shoulder as Eddie soothingly held him and played with his hair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eds?” Richie spoke up after a moment of contented silence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… I uh… nothing,” Richie finally said into the darkness. “It’s nothing. This was nice, that’s all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was obviously not that he’d intended to say, but Eddie wasn’t about to push it. Not tonight, anyway. He had so much to process as it was. He was already dreading the harsh light of the morning, when he knew damn well they would both possibly be going into a full panic when the reality of what they’d just done hit them fully. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t want to think about that yet, though. He wanted to just live in the moment for once in his life without worrying about what the next day </span>
  <em>
    <span>might</span>
  </em>
  <span> bring. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was,” he agreed. He kissed the top of Richie’s hair and wrapped him up in his arms as securely as he could, the sound of the other man’s heartbeat slowly lulling him into a deep, peaceful sleep.</span>
</p>
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